Beautiful Beast
by bladewielder05
Summary: Marth is the paragon of a king. His image reflects a god's divinity and power, bound by his brutality, his cruelty and his beast. He rules with an iron fist, angering his people. Almost nothing interests the beautiful king, save for a black angel. In the midst of a sedition, which will arrive first, King Marth's demise or Dark Pit's love? For LegitElizabethWWEFan's M-Rated Contest.
1. Chapter 1

**Heyyo, peeps! I'm back-ish! Here's the first chapter to my LegitElizabethWWEFan's M-Rated Contest entry, which is going to make me really uncomfortable considering what I have planned for this story. Completely out of my comfort zone...there's this line I made for myself, and I'm crossing it with this story. I don't think I'll return to normal...Honestly, I think I have no hope of winning this as I've seen the other entries, and they're great. They're absolutely great. It's going to be Smash King24's Christmas Contest all over again...ANYWAYS, hope you guys enjoy.**

 **I love how so far, everybody's taken a Modern AU approach to this while I'm over with my "Oh, uh...okay...um...I'll go with this little Chinese movies-inspired..." story. I've also noticed how almost all the stories so far include Marth one way or another. Yeah, this one has Marth too, guys. Sorry. Uh...hope you guys enjoy the story!**

 **Warning: Yaoi...**

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Chapter 1

Icy and void, his Majesty, King Marth gently whirled the tea in his cup to fully mix the spices and sweets. The soldiers on either side of him stood impassively underneath the cover set up to prevent the sun from disrespecting their king. The wind swept to only a light breeze that blew a few particles of dust just below the soldiers' knees. King Marth lifted his cup towards his mouth and took a slight sip. His expression remained constant even with the prisoner before him shouting coarse abuses towards him. The other soldiers attempted to mirror the same deadpan mask of their king. Some, however, were unable to keep the sweat from trickling down the back of their necks.

The prisoner before them used to be one of them. He had led many successful campaigns in King Marth's name. He was also very popular among the army and the servants of the castle. Not only that, there had been rumors that he trained with and actually saved King Marth from imminent death when they were younger. However, the crime he committed required the proper punishment in King Marth's eyes. He first had the traitor flogged before sending him out in the field before his many comrades. The prisoner's tattered, green clothes bore no more signs of his alliance to the king. He had been stripped of everything, his position, his wealth, his family…and today, he would be stripped of his final right: his life.

Sir Ike, one of King Marth's most trusted warlords, walked up to his liege's throne. He bowed deeply before straightening up again. "Your Majesty, everything is ready. At your command," Ike's curt voice reported.

The bluenette ignored the bow and continued to sip at his tea. When his cup was a little halfway done, he finally looked up. His cold eyes did not spare even his old friend the same penetrating look it graced everybody. Although Ike was obviously bigger and stronger than King Marth, there was something in King Marth's air that commanded, forced others into submission. His voice, though soft, cracked like a whip:

"Why…Sir Ike, do I detect a bit of sadness in your voice?"

Ike's Adam's apple bobbed as a sign of his uneasiness. The other soldiers looked to their captain nervously. Ike knew that anything he thought, anything he felt, King Marth already knew. Some way, somehow, the king would know. There was no use trying to hide anything from him. Those who didn't know that learned it the hard way. The warlord bowed, more deeply this time.

"My apologies, Your Majesty…I just find it hard to believe that…Sir Link would betray you."

King Marth lifted an eyebrow in mock curiosity, "Of course. After all, you two have trained with each other since you were very young. It must be extremely difficult for you today to order his execution."

"I'm humbled to know that you understand, Your Majesty."

"In that case…I shall do it for you." Without reacting to Ike's start of shock, King Marth snapped his fingers. "Kill him."

At the king's signal, the five soldiers in charge of the execution whipped the cows. The five cows bellowed in fury and pain. The chains connecting to them to each of Sir Link's limbs and neck stretched taunt, despite his horrific and abusive screams. They overlapped with the animals' groans, creating an unearthly sound spawned from the darkness. The soldiers resisted covering their ears in fear of facing their king's contempt, yet a few had to look away lest they became in danger of throwing up right there on the grass. Several cracks echoed in the area. King Marth finished his tea just as dull thuds fell to the ground. He looked up from his cup to find five cows grazing peacefully on the sweet grass, paying no heed to the disgusting carnage behind them. A malformed body lay in the middle of the scene, blood spurting from all five holes. Two cows dragged dirty arms behind them. Another two ignored the rattle of chains as the disfigured legs followed them. An emotion finally revealed itself on the king's face. His soft smile greatly contrasted the furious head that continued to dirty his pleasant fields with its shameful blood.

He turned his smile to Sir Ike, "If you would indulge me, Sir Ike, bring me that lovely stone over yonder. I would like it mount on a display for at least a day before I tire of looking at it. Then toss it to the dogs. Leave the others to the scavengers." King Marth rose gracefully from his throne and turned towards his carriage. The two soldiers flanked either side, ready to protect him from potential harm. Ike watched his king disappear from view before turning back to stare at the "stone" he mentioned. Even in death, Link managed to curse his former master. The warlord felt tears prickling his eyes, yet he blinked them rapidly to check them from falling. A stab to the heart at his refusal to shed tears for one of his oldest friends amplified his guilt, yet he ignored it. Sir Ike waved a hand to signal his men to clean up the corpse. The warlord himself walked to the lifeless head and picked it up by the hair.

King Marth finally reached his carriage. His coachman made sure his lord was settled before cracking the whip to drive the horses. The king yawned and rested his chin in the palm of his hand as he stared at his world outside. He noted how the peasants working in the fields looked up to see his carriage, only to quickly revert their eyes upon discovering the owner of said vessel. King Marth smirked at their submission. He relished that taste of power that belonged to him ever since he was crowned King at the age of thirteen. His father had died of unknown causes, forcing young Prince Marth to take the throne. He refused the help of his father's old advisors and ruled with an iron fist in order to prove his worth of the throne. King Marth conquered new lands, vanquished his enemies, and brought a sense of prosperity to his people.

And yet…

King Marth knew that his people were not happy. That sense of prosperity seemed forced and abnormal, as if it was gained through malevolent means. Rumors circulated about His Majesty, how he ignored many of his people's needs and severely punished those who displeased him. It was whispered that King Marth would actually pick out suitable specimens to conduct various experiments and torturous methods. It would certainly explain why various men and women disappeared, never to be heard from again. Mothers often used the threat of selling their children to King Marth for money to silence the little ones. Due to King Marth's almost divine appearance, many people surmised that he did in fact buy children from starving families in order to drink their blood for the simple purpose of youth and beauty. The people continued to live in deep fear of their own king despite the peaceful state they found themselves in. No one was certain when they would be dragged to the castle for some deathly reason.

Having past the town just outside the castle's moat, the carriage slowed as it loped uphill. It finally came to a stop once the coachman reached the top and drove across the bridge through the entrance of the castle. The soldiers riding on the back quickly dismounted to open the door for their lord. King Marth daintily stepped from his vessel. His dead expression changed naught as the two lines of servants parted in the courtyard bowed deeply in order to welcome back their king. His cape fluttering behind him, his footsteps slashed through the tense silence that surrounded his castle. The servants barely moved from their positions. Only until King Marth entered his anteroom did they disperse according to their various functions.

His castle was already grand when his father still ruled. However, after his father's death, King Marth demanded the castle to be expanded. He sent thousands of commoners to mine fabled, indestructible ores and thousands more to further construct a castle fit for a deity. All the towers of his castle were fortified further and built even taller, spiraling upward with pennants and flags. Archways bridged the gaps between several towers. In the middle of the courtyard stood a single, large keep that overlooked the whole castle. Behind it was the Great Hall and, even further, the main building where King Marth stayed. Despite the castle's cold walls, during the day it gave the impression of a strong, yet beautiful home with its carefully tended garden and trees.

King Marth strolled down his halls, unmindful of the servants who scurried past him. His two soldiers continued to flank his sides until he stopped. The king looked at them with the same mask he gave Sir Ike. "Leave," he ordered. The two soldiers raised a fist to their chest, bowed, and hurried away. Now alone, King Marth continued down the halls. His home paid no attention to the cruel rumors surrounding its master. It displayed the more graceful side of King Marth with its long, red carpets and velvet curtains. Pots of rare plants offered a sense of life to those who appreciated them. The archways dressed in artists' paints and skills, adding vibrant colors through stained-glass windows to the castle's interior. Yet after spending the majority of his life here, King Marth found the halls to be a bit…boring.

He left the bright rooms to enter a poorly lit one. He closed the door behind him. The king had no intention of locking the door as none dared to enter this room. It barely classified as a room. Stairs led an occupant downward and away from the light. Rank odor engulfed the place, yet the only sign of King Marth's displeasure was a slight twitch of the nose and a crease in his forehead. He stepped lightly down the stone stairs without the need of a light source. Farther and farther down he went in a circle until a single, large flame lit the way to hell. King Marth blinked a bit to adjust his eyes. There were other torches to light his way through the dark dungeon. He ignored the inhuman groans all around him. The bluenette walked briskly forward. Skeleton hands reached out for mercy, only to be stepped on heartlessly by King Marth. The owners cried out in pain but were unable to find any strength to retract their mangled parts. A few refused to let the king get the better of them as they shouted abuse and vows of vengeance. Yet, they only clutched the bars of their cells and refused to stretch out their hands like the other mindless captives. These, King Marth also ignored. There was only one true reason why he would waste his precious time here.

And there it was. Chained to the wall enclosed in a room all to itself. King Marth savored how the prisoner's head hung in shame, his black hair all messy and unkempt. He wore only tattered, cotton pants and those lovely fetters. The shackles held up the young man's scarred hands and arms to display them to their master. Large, scarlet welts covered his whole naked body, some in meaningless patterns, others in well-thought messages. The welts encircled the brand on the prisoner's chest. King Marth licked his lips at the memory of his prisoner shrieking as the hot branding iron kissed his skin. It left the king's emblem, a sword with a blade of fire, to mark his property. Iron chains locked the prisoner's torn feet apart, denying him the comfort of sitting on the dirty dungeon floor. But the most magnificent part of this scenery was the blood-caked, black wings spread out and nailed to the stone wall the angel Faire was chained to.

Bowser, a huge AlBaest of the Koopa fraction, chuckled loudly as he cracked a whip against the floor. When he heard footsteps approaching, he turned with an apprehensive look. The moment he saw who it was, however, he dropped his whip. Bowser fell to his knees in a deep bow, "Your Majesty, I wasn't expecting you to come back so soon."

King Marth raised an eyebrow, "Indeed. I should have known from a stupid AlBaest." He turned away from his expert torturer. "How is he?"

Bowser leapt to his feet and rubbed his grubby hands together. "His voice might be a little hoarse after all that screaming, but I know that a Faire can take a little salt on the wound," he laughed. King Marth smiled coldly.

"Good. I would be sorely disappointed if he died so soon."

The AlBaest backed away nervously. Although his king was smiling, Bowser could see the clear message in his eyes. King Marth would have his head if he failed to do things as he wanted. Bowser knew what a master torturer his employer was. The king was more skilled in torturing than the AlBaest was, and the AlBaest spent almost his whole life studying on ways to make his enemies suffer. It was not, as everybody knew, a good idea to displease King Marth. Bowser bowed once more, "Dismissed, Your Majesty?"

King Marth waved a languid hand, "Yes, you are dismissed." Bowser nodded in reply and left the room. King Marth waited until the AlBaest closed the door tightly before walking up to his prisoner. The young Faire barely reacted to the sound. His sore muscles refused to move against pain that still stung his whole body. King Marth lowered himself, careful not to touch anything in the filthy cell. He lifted the Faire's chin, smiling softly at the black cloth blindfolding his eyes and the wet, white gag. The king pulled on the blindfold and let it fall to the ground. Hateful, crimson eyes glared through blurry tears. The Faire held in his voice against his own will. He waited until his captor untied his gag. Before he could spit on the king's face, King Marth crashed his lips onto his. Muffled protests did not stop the king from violating his mouth, tongue exploring the warm cavern once more. The blurry tears trickled down his cheeks as the Faire closed his eyes. He hated, oh how he hated his weakness and lack of strength. Unwillingly but unconsciously, he turned his head to deepen the kiss. He felt King Marth smirk against his lips. The chains gripping his wrists rattled and held when he tried to move his arms.

The king leaned back and broke the kiss, yet a string of saliva still connected them together. The Faire's face was flushed in both anger and embarrassment. A bit of drool dripped from the corner of his mouth. King Marth smirked at the scene. He stroked his prisoner's cheeks, crooning, "Oh…my sweet little Dark Pit…how lovely you look right now…"

Dark Pit exhaled violently. His whole body shivered in anticipation, no matter how much he wished it didn't. However, the Faire finally found the courage to spit in the king's face. As King Marth frowned and wiped the saliva from his cheek, Dark Pit glared at him. He tried his hardest, but he simply did not look at all threatening with his rasping breath, flushed cheeks, and sweaty body:

"Fuck…you…"

King Marth smirked at his prisoner. He stroked Dark Pit's cheeks once more. He suddenly dug his nails into the soft flesh, earning a surprised cry of pain. He laughed softly in delight. "Oh, Dark Pit…if only you could do it to me…wouldn't you like that? But I'm the dominant one here…it's your responsibility to submit to me…and only me…" King Marth's eyes flared, his smirk dropping into that stone-cold mask. He stood up quickly and walked over to the side. Dark Pit weakly turned his head to see where the king was going. The bluenette grabbed a freshly-filled bucket with both hands. Walking back over to his prisoner, King Marth flung the aromatic contents of the bucket right at him. Lemon juice washed over the Faire, seeping into the red open cuts. The stinging became almost unbearable in a flash. Dark Pit screamed loudly, the gag no longer preventing him from voicing his agony. The smile returning to his face, King Marth looked on as his prisoner shrieked. He simply enjoyed the way the Faire's back arched in suffering, how he screwed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to block out the sting. The chains holding down the angel rang with the symphony of cruelty, jingling with sadistic joy. His wings stretched outward with him. Dark Pit wasn't only screeching from the pain of the citrus. He could feel fresh blood crawling down his caked wings, forming new striped patterns.

Dark Pit gasped loudly, his whole body heaving and twitching from exertion. Tears streamed down his face. His eyes were still shut against the pain when he felt the king's hand lift up his face. He refused to open his eyes to his tormenter. Dark Pit's breath hitched as he felt something soft and wet touch his neck. The Faire slowly opened one eye to see soft blue hair. King Marth licked some of the citrus off of Dark Pit's red neck, eliciting a moan from him. His tongue was hot but felt strangely comforting. The king chuckled softly at his pet's reactions. He straightened up. The absence of the tongue from his neck caused the Faire to whimper. Dark Pit looked at King Marth with hazy eyes, cloudy from pain and desire. The king caressed Dark Pit's cheeks one last time before turning to leave.

"I shall be back tomorrow, sweet, little Dark Pit…" King Marth walked towards the door. Upon hearing his master's footsteps nearing the exit, Bowser quickly opened the door. The king briskly walked through, "Shut the door. Leave him until tomorrow. And make sure you have fresh lemon ready."

The AlBaest bowed deeply, "It shall be as you commanded, Your Majesty."

King Marth graced the torturer with a soft smile, "Good." Bowser slammed the cell door shut, leaving Dark Pit alone with only the flickering torch of his prison. All the emotions the Faire bottled inside in an effort to remain strong suddenly rushed out. His head hanging, Dark Pit sobbed in shame, grief, and anger.

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 **Uh...yeah! Again, hope you guys enjoy. Want to say good luck to everybody in the contest, if you guys are reading this. You know, checking out the competition, stuff like that ;D.**

 **Side-note, I have most of the Smashers and possibly Assist Trophies (not really sure yet) grouped into three sections: Humans, Faires, and AlBaests. Humans are obviously the humans; some may have special abilities like magic (i.e. Marth, Robin, Villager). Faires look like humans but have some sort of quality that separates them more so from a Human (i.e. Dark Pit, Samus, Link). AlBaests are the unexplained beasts and whatnot (i.e. Bowser, Pikachu, Yoshi). Faires and AlBaests have their own fractions (i.e. Angel, Koopa, Pokémon) so the characters are still close their original species. Just wanted to enlighten you guys on the system I'm using.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Five days had passed since Sir Link's death. Following King Marth's orders, the Faire's head stood on a stake outside the castle for a day. The eyes were gorged out by hungry black crows, leaving only bloody holes in the midst of a hateful expression. Flies buzzed around the head, attracted to its decaying state. After that day, a soldier plucked the head from its spot. He went behind the castle were most rotting things rested. The dogs scavenging for food looked to the carnage with their tails wagging. The soldier carelessly tossed Link's head to the ground. The dogs immediately pounced on it, destroying it in a matter of seconds.

Dark Pit had no knowledge of Link's or the days' passing. He lost count of how many days he resided in his shitty prison. As a result, he also forgot how old he was. Faires lived longer and aged slower than Humans. He did remember that King Marth captured him when he was quite young. In that case, it could have been years since he last saw his village. King Marth brought him to his castle and threw him into his own cell. Since then, only King Marth's visits interrupted his pathetic life. The flame of anger in his chest flared when the king came to mind. Dark Pit hated that man with every fiber of his being. He despised King Marth for taking, torturing, and assaulting him. But most of all, Dark Pit hated how King Marth broke his spirit, little by little. Only the king pierced through the independent shell the Faire made for himself. Dark Pit could stand against Bowser's measly torture methods, no problem, or anybody else for that matter. But whenever the king came, Dark Pit found himself falling to pieces. It grated him how easily King Marth crawled under his skin each time. A small movement stopped his cursing. His eyes followed the small object until it finally rested on the prison floor. Dark Pit instantly felt a sense of fatigue wash over him. He prayed to his gods that the king wouldn't visit him today. The Faire didn't want the Human to see him in this state.

Meanwhile, King Marth skimmed through the lines of the report before sighing and tossing it onto the table in front of him. Only the shuffling of feet belonging to the submissive servants against the carpet echoed in the room as the king's advisors held their breath. They knew, deep down, that despite their best efforts, the king would find some sort of fault with them. It always happened in the past, and it was happening now.

"…are you…this incompetent?" King Marth glared coldly at the people before him. To his slight vexation but covert pleasure, the five advisors avoided his gaze by contemplating the wooden table they sat around. The sun-illuminated room almost opposed the heavy tension the people found themselves in. Stained-glass prints danced along the red floor to a nameless tune. The arches rose high above their heads with multiple glass chandeliers hanging. Only the stones that supported the king's meeting room reflected the cold sweat of the atmosphere. Seeing how he was not going to get an answer anytime soon, King Marth leaned back in his high chair, "This…was the sad amount that you conquered?"

Ike squirmed in his seat. Most things could not faze the broad warrior. He would face any challenge head-on with the full purpose of fighting for his friends. Vicious AlBaests, cunning Faires, devilish Humans, all an obstacle that Ike simply had to overcome in a short period of time. The warlord often found courage in the support that he was able to provide for his friends and them him. However, facing his king was another matter altogether. King Marth mirrored everything Ike confronted, and more. Ike may have known Marth ever since they were young, but it seemed as if the bluenette never showed his true self until he had that toxic taste of power. When he did, it frightened Ike to the point of wanting to abandon his post. That same fear, ironically enough, was also the source of incarcerating him.

Roy wanted to slam his fist on the table to display his irritation with King Marth's behavior. However, the same fear that gripped Ike each time he face his liege also seized the redhead in its horrible grasp. The swordsman was in the same situation as Ike as he had trained with Marth as a young boy. And yet…like Ike, Roy could not find the courage to go directly against his king, no matter how badly he wished it. It pained him everyday to see King Marth's subjects suffering without being spared any mercy from the ruler himself. He hated himself for being so defenseless before his liege.

Ganondorf wanted to meet King Marth's gaze. The Faire of the Gerudo fraction distinguished the king's boundless cruelty and malice from the very beginning. He had noted ruefully how easily it surpassed his own bloodlust, commanding the large Faire the same submission it ordered everyone. King Marth was by far more evil than Ganondorf could ever be. Actions the Faire dreamed of attempting, his lord dismissed as mere child's play. Thinking back to some of King Marth's mandates, the Faire could not stop the same shivers from those days from crawling down his spine to remind him of his position. The simple act of staring into the king's eyes was enough to make the Faire break into a cold sweat.

Wolf swallowed the lump in his throat. Before becoming an advisor, he had heard rumors about the devil king, as King Marth was sometimes known for. Initially, he didn't believe it. However, the minute the AlBaest laid eyes on the petite figure, he was ensnared. It was almost as if King Marth waited patiently until the time came for him to devour his prey alive. That was exactly how Wolf felt when the king appointed him to his counsel. He couldn't refuse, no matter how badly he wished he could. Some people have all the bravery, or foolishness, to refuse King Marth's soft request. They were well-rested now.

If Mewtwo was also petrified of the king, he hid it well. Many times, the others wondered if their fellow counselor had any emotions or was just as cold as King Marth. He often sat in silence and watched the discussions rather than add his own bit. Due to the AlBaest's silence, people surmised that Mewtwo never feared the king in the first place. He simply viewed his job as a way of life. Other factors involved with his job did not bother him to the point of self-consumption.

"F-forgive me, your Majesty," Ganondorf bowed as best he could from his seat. "I swear, I will do my best to secure more lands for your kingdom."

"See to it," King Marth replied in an icy voice. "Get Ike to help you this time." Ganondorf's head snapped up at that. He made eye contact with the muscular Human. Ike only glared at the Faire. Ganondorf returned his own scowl. However, he quickly dropped it when he realized that King Marth was not done. He coldly stared at all of them before shaking his head in mock solemnity. "I feel like this meeting has gone long enough…I have other duties to attend to."

"Your Majesty," Roy had to speak up. He placed a few papers in front of the king. King Marth's eyes narrowed at the redhead. Despite the terrifying glare the king bestowed on the knight, Roy held his ground. That did not help the sweat trailing down the back of his neck, however. The advisor continued, "I'm sorry to delay you-."

"No…go right ahead…it's not like I have… _other matters to attend to_."

Roy flinched noticeably at the sarcastic answer. He gritted his teeth and thought about the suffering people. The concern of so many innocent people relying on him gave him a small burst of courage. Small, but nevertheless enough for him to stand up against the ruler, even for a moment. He inclined his head in apology, "I must talk to you about…the current state of the people right now."

"What about them?" King Marth barely reacted to the servant placing the cup of tea in front of him. She withdrew quickly but stayed close should the king require anything else.

Roy pointed to the documents, "As you can see, the harvests…haven't been going as well. A few areas had an extended drought while others were burdened with constant flooding. The people are starving and you're the only one who can help them, Your Majesty."

The king sat there silently, his mind going over the information Roy notified him. He rested his chin on his linked hands. The other advisors watched him closely. They were all surprised at how Roy was able to speak so calmly to the devil king like that. It seemed to be working considering how this was the first time King Marth ever mused over such dealings. He considered them beneath him and usually had Roy or someone else manage it.

King Marth smiled now. He leaned back in his chair, sighing through his nose. Roy felt his glimmer of hope extinguish upon seeing the soft smile on King Marth's face. Usually, a smile represented joy and happiness. This one reflected utter despair and hopelessness. The lax voice spoke, "Tax them."

"Y-your Majesty?" Roy couldn't believe his ears. His king directed the smile right at the redhead. Roy held his breath in as he felt fear grip his heart tightly. The terror paralyzed him so as the smile wound around him. It tangled itself through the loops before tightening to make Roy gasp inwardly. Why? Why and how did King Marth's soft smile insinuate so much horror? It shred his heart to bits when he caught what King Marth said next.

"You want me to help them, yes? …then raise the taxes."

"But Your Majesty! You shall be overtaxing them! Most of them can barely afford the rates at which you are demanding!"

"Indeed…life is a high price to pay…" King Marth chuckled. Roy finally couldn't take it anymore. He slammed his fist on the table, causing the others to jump. Had Roy finally gone mad? Nobody acted like that in front of the king! He had been known to punish others severely for acts less insulting than this! Despite the dread that almost overwhelmed his mind, another emotion pressed Roy to continue his course. Anger, and fury at his lord for neglecting his people. In fact, Roy was glad that he chose this route. If he had cowered with his tail between his legs, he would be no better than the king himself.

King Marth, however, barely flinched, as if he had anticipated that the redhead would lose his temper from the start. He raised one bored eyebrow at the panting advisor. He waited until Roy calmed down enough to talk.

"Your Majesty…your people will starve if you continue this! They are already poverty-stricken, nature has turned on them and you...your people will die if you don't do anything!"

"Oh? I don't think that is the case…" King Marth leaned forward once more. "My people…if they can survive this, then they are worthy enough to live. If not…then Fate truly is a fickle mistress."

"Your-."

"Enough, Roy," the king finally took his cup of tea. The advisor knew better than to say anything when King Marth was about to drink. Roy had already crossed that line too much. It was time to retreat and be prepared to fight another day. The redhead cursed himself for not being stronger. King Marth swirled his tea around in his usual way. Oddly enough, he just continued to mix it. He didn't change his expression at all as he spoke, "If you so desperately wish to help my people, be my guest…Wolf, help Roy decide on the new tax ratios…check our food stocks…if he desires the people to pay…we were in need of more funds anyways...this meeting is now adjourned."

With frightening speed, King Marth launched his tea cup towards the servant behind him. It moved too fast for her to dodge. A sickening crack, a high-pitched scream was all the king needed to hear to smile devilishly. He rose gracefully from his chair, ignoring the shocked expressions of his advisors. King Marth turned to see the white-skinned servant on the floor. Her hands attempted unsuccessfully to starch the flow of blood that leaked from her cracked forehead. The shattered porcelain lay around her, chips still retaining some old liquid mixed with a red one. Hot tea spilled all over her, slightly burning her skin. The king walked towards her. She leaned back in fear, her heart leaping into her throat when she realized she had backed up into a wall. Her mind was too slow to process what happened next.

King Marth slapped her sadistically, sending her sprawling on the carpet floor. Her white cheek shone a crimson red. A small cut flowed blood where the king's insignia ring cut the servant's cheek. Tears blurred the woman's vision. She blinked desperately in order to see her attacker. The soft smile sent shivers down her spine, completely paralyzing her with dread.

"Think you can poison my tea, woman?" King Marth chuckled. He kicked her playfully, earning a groan from the wounded woman. The king looked back at his horrified advisors. Inwardly, Roy cursed at the unsuccessful attempt of the anonymous assassin. Fortunately the redhead kept his face straight. King Marth exhaled deeply, "Ganondorf, arrest Dedede…throw him and this miserable being into the dungeons…Mewtwo, find me a new cook…I should want some delicious tarts after my duties…" The king strolled towards the exit. He smiled at them one last time, "I shall see you gentlemen another time…" The others waited until the door closed to breathe again.

Roy looked over to where the snow-skinned woman sobbed hopelessly. He gritted his teeth in anger. He didn't realize that he was digging his nails into his hands until Ike placed a calming hand on the redhead's shoulder. Roy looked to the taller man for advice. The muscular bluenette just shook his head. There was nothing they could do to help her now, even if she was truly innocent.

…

King Marth remained stoic until Bowser closed the door to the cell. At once, his mouth twisted into his small smile as he walked towards Dark Pit. The Faire this time was not blindfolded nor gagged. However he didn't lift his head to glare at the king nor spit in his face like last time. He was mindful of the punishments he would receive if he made the wrong move. Or perhaps…Dark Pit was just tired. King Marth's smile disappeared when he saw the fatigued look in the Faire's eyes. It was different from what he was used to, and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

"My sweet, little Dark Pit…whatever is the matter?" the king reached out. As he did, a small movement above caught his eye. A single black feather from Dark Pit's wings fluttered to the ground. King Marth followed the appendage until it lay on the stones with the rest of its brothers. There were many, scattered in different directions. The bluenette briefly wondered why he didn't notice in the first place but surmised that he was simply too busy staring at his pet that he didn't pay attention to his surroundings. "My, my, my, my…" King Marth picked up a feather. He twirled it in his hands before smiling softly at his prisoner, "…you're molting?"

"…not by my choice," Dark Pit said through gritted teeth. King Marth raised an eyebrow at that. This was the first time the Faire talked to him normally enough. Usually curses and insults wrenched from his mouth. The king's surprise was replaced by a soft glow. For some reason, he found a delightful feeling just hearing Dark Pit say that. He couldn't explain it, but he knew that it wasn't just the words themselves that brought the glow. What else was it? Before he could find the answer, Dark Pit interrupted him, "Put that back. I don't want fucktards touching my feathers."

The glow was replaced with the power. King Marth continued to twirl the feather between his fingers, "What a pity…and here, I loved your wings so much…now you have to strip away all that beauty…"

"SHUT UP!" Dark Pit erupted. Instinctively, he thrashed against his bonds, able to ignore the aching only for a brief moment. His nerves caught up to his anger, and the Faire gasped in pain. His strength failing him, he relaxed his body. His wounds stung to remind him of his place. King Marth's chuckle echoed through the room. He dropped the feather and reached towards the Faire's cheeks. However Dark Pit managed to find the courage this time to turn away. His actions did not stop King Marth from stroking his cheeks. The angel flinched slightly before relaxing. The king gently but firmly directed Dark Pit's face towards him. He smiled his infuriating smile once more before connecting his lips with the Faire's.

Like all the other times, Dark Pit couldn't resist King Marth's approach. Each time he melted under the king's powerful touch. The Faire truly hated himself for losing so easily to a mere Human. He especially hated how the king could be so cruel and vile one moment but instantly shed that image to be "caring and loving" the next. He knew it was a huge lie, yet it still confused and distracted him from his original purpose. He had to stop this. He had to stop all of this if he wanted to keep what little dignity he had.

King Marth broke the kiss, causing Dark Pit to whimper. The king turned to the Faire's ear. He bit the lope lightly as he let his hands roam Dark Pit's body. The Faire exhaled loudly and attempted to squirm away. The chains prevented his will, rattling to tease him about his predicament. The blood rushed to his cheeks in a flash. The whole room suddenly became hot as beads of sweat trailed down his half-naked body. King Marth chuckled at his pet's reactions, his hot breath tickling Dark Pit's neck. He loved how Dark Pit absolutely seethed with rage and agony whenever the king tortured him. However, the Faire immediately became submissive and timid once King Marth took special care of him.

His fingers pinched and tweaked Dark Pit's nipples. The Faire gasped loudly at the simulation. He panted loudly, his heart beating rapidly. Although King Marth had done this before, Dark Pit was still shock at how the king could do this. He wouldn't expect a noble figure to do such shameful things, but his mind reminded him that this was King Marth he was thinking about. His face flushed a deep red, in both pleasure and humiliation. Dark Pit wanted to squirm away. He wanted King Marth to stop his advances as he wasn't sure that he could resist them anymore. But at the same time…Dark Pit was ashamed that he craved more. The bulge in his pants was a testimony to that.

Of course, it didn't go unnoticed by the devil king. "My, my, my, my…aren't you lustful…my sweet, little Dark Pit…" King Marth chuckled. He moved from biting Dark Pit's ear to kissing the Faire's collar bone. One hand continued to play with Dark Pit's hard nipples. The other hand trailed down teasingly. The Faire began to breathe erratically in anticipation of what's to come. His mind hazed with lust and desire. He desperately wished for the king to hurry up. But King Marth continued to go at his leisurely pace. When he finally grabbed Dark Pit's member, the Faire gasped appreciatively. He bucked his hips into the king's grasp. King Marth chuckled at his pet's reactions. He began stroking the shaft, feeling the precum slicking his hand. Dark Pit moaned loudly; he was thankful that the large door masked his shameless sounds.

"M-more…Please...! More!" Dark Pit begged. King Marth bit the Faire's neck, eliciting a yelp. The vibrations of the king's laughter barely registered in the angel's mind as he focused on the pleasure King Marth bestowed him. Sweat trailed down Dark Pit's body as he moved his hips with King Marth's strokes. Feeling it twitch in his hands, the king knew it was a matter of time. He sped up his strokes for the final release.

"Ahh...ahhh! Aahhh!" Dark Pit moaned in pleasure when his seed spilled from his member's head. King Marth smirked at the feeling of the milky liquid in his hand. He retracted his hands while the Faire panted in exhaustion. The king licked his hand in appreciation.

"Now…wasn't that pleasant…my dear Dark Pit?" King Marth smiled softly at the sweaty figure before him. "Won't you taste yourself?" He held his cum-covered hand towards Dark Pit. The Faire stared blearily at the king. Although he was still in a daze, he managed to set his mouth in a straight line and shake his head.

"Fuck off, bastard…"

Despite the insult, the smile remained on King Marth's face. He caressed Dark Pit's cheeks with both hands. It was noticeable that Dark Pit shield away from his own cum in the king's hand, leading him to rest against the other. However, King Marth still stroked the Faire's face with both hands. Dark Pit grimaced as he felt the fluid touch his face; even if it was his own, he despised how it felt.

"Since you were…so obedient today…I shall reward you further…" King Marth straightened up. He grabbed a clean cloth and wiped his hands off. "Bowser," the king raised his voice for the Koopa to hear.

The AlBaest hurried into the room. If he heard Dark Pit's screams, he didn't show it. He bowed towards his master, "Your Majesty?"

"Clean him up…when you're finished…move him into the other room. Only chain his wrists and ankles…I want you to leave his wings free…"

Bowser started at the strange order. When King Marth told him to "clean [Dark Pit] up", it was to be interpreted as actually cleaning him up and not clumsily toss a bucket of water on him. And then there was the order about the wings… "Your Majesty, are you sure?"

"...Are you...questioning me…?" King Marth looked at the torturer. Bowser quickly shook his head.

"No, Your Majesty! I would never do such a thing!"

"Good…then see to it," King Marth smiled softly at the still-blushing Dark Pit. "I shall see you soon…" The king turned on his heels and strolled away. Panting, Dark Pit could only glare at the king's back while Bowser removed his fetters.

"…Fuck…you…" the Faire muttered under his breath. Although, hearing King Marth's orders, surprisingly, gave Dark Pit hope. If his wings weren't nailed like they were now, he might be able to pull it off. He just had to wait until the right time.

If Fate was with him, Dark Pit could be free tonight.

* * *

 ***lying dead with Dark Pit Staff and Falchion sticking out my back* They got angry...Don't be mad at me, first time writing smut...hope you fangirls enjoyed it, even if it was horrible...if there's any advice concerning that, I'll gladly listen. Thanks...**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Tonight was the night. Dark Pit waited until he could hear the snores of Bowser through the heavy door. Although the door was made from a great oak, Bowser's loud snorts easily carried through, disrupting Dark Pit's sleep for the past years. The Faire willed his wings to lean forward slightly. The aching muscles did, allowing the Faire to grab onto a feather. It was only slightly loose, but it will have to do. Dark Pit gritted his teeth in anticipation and pulled. Pain shot through his wings towards his shoulder. Compared to King Marth's torture methods, this pain was nothing. Still, it set him in a sweat when he finally plucked one of his own feathers. The Faire's endurance wasn't like what it used to be. That was probably one of the reasons why he couldn't resist the king at times. He thumbed it quickly to make sure it was fit for the task ahead.

Bending his wrist as much as possible, Dark Pit began to use the calamus of his plumage to pick the lock. It was slow going as it had been awhile since Dark Pit last picked a lock. His brow furrowed in concentration, he listened carefully. His heart pulsed rapidly, the terror of being discovered almost locking his mind. However Dark Pit gritted his teeth against the fear and continued to pick his right shackle.

It seemed like hours to Dark Pit, but at last the fetter fell from his wrist. The Faire smirked at his triumph. Freedom had never tasted so sweet. He rubbed his sore wrist to get the blood flowing. Satisfied, Dark Pit set to work on his left chains. Fortunately the process was much quicker and his left wrist was soon free. He repeated his stimulation of the blood before turning to his legs. The right shackle clicked open, then the left. At once Dark Pit fell to the floor, grateful for the liberation of his limbs. He sighed in obvious relief as he massaged his ankles and legs. Although it hurt, the Faire knew that it was important for him to set his limbs right before making his move. He stared at his injured wings regretfully. If the king didn't nail them, then he could have easily flown away. Dark Pit cursed King Marth once more for making him like this. He swore to himself that he would see King Marth dead before him.

Once he was sure that he was ready for his escape, Dark Pit slinked towards the door. He scouted the area outside the barred window. Bowser sat in a chair leaning against a wall, snoring peacefully. Dark Pit looked around to get more of his bearings. He thought back to when Bowser placed Dark Pit into a different cell after bathing and changing his pants. He noticed that his room was placed further than the other cells. If you made a right after you walked down the stairs, you'd find it. As a result, Dark Pit felt a slight pang of guilt of not freeing the other prisoners, prisoners who could very well be innocent of their accused crimes. It would only increase his chances of being discovered. His spine shivered a cold chill at the very idea of being recaptured. He hugged himself tightly in a futile attempt to stop his trembling. The memories of King Marth torturing were almost too much for Dark Pit to bear. The constant agony he had to face slashed a huge abyssal scar in his mind. He simply couldn't go back.

But somewhere, in the back of his mind, a voice told him that he wouldn't dare to escape. So accustomed he was to the pain and pleasure that if he escaped, he would never experience those sensations again. The voice lit a flare of resentment in Dark Pit. He denied and suppressed the voice's accusations, and his shivering stopped. The Faire straightened up, eyes determined.

Dark Pit started on the lock. Since it was quite old, it was relatively easy for him to unlock it. He cringed slightly when he heard a loud click. He froze in place, as if Bowser only responded to movement. When he heard the snoring continue he relaxed. Gently and slowly, Dark Pit creaked the door open. Although the squeaking was obnoxiously loud, Bowser still slept on. The Faire thanked the gods that his torturer was a heavy sleeper. As soon as the door was wide enough for him, the skinny angel slipped through. He paused briefly at the ring of keys hanging from Bowser's claws. The guilt expanded, Dark Pit cursing himself. Why did he have to feel like playing the hero now? It wasn't right!

Despite what he yelled at himself, he found his hand reaching for the keys. His fingers grasped the ring and tugged gently. The scaly arm twitched, and Dark Pit knew he was in deep shit.

"You!" Bowser roared, awakened from his sleep. The Faire fell back in shock at the AlBaest's abnormal ability to wake up at the slightest touch but not the slightest noise. "How did you escape?!" Dark Pit scrabbled to his feet, turning as he did so. The strength of the desperate took hold of the Faire and he sped away. The AlBaest bellowed furiously. He stomped after the prisoner, the flame in his eyes intensifying.

Fortunately for Dark Pit, Bowser was quite slow. The Faire quickly scurried up the stairs to the forbidden room. He burst out of the room, surprising a maid walking down the halls. She shrieked at the half-naked Faire with the bloody wings. Her scream disorientated Dark Pit's mind even further. He looked around frantically at the unfamiliar halls around him. His heart leapt in fear as he stared at the maid with terror-filled eyes. Although deep down he knew that she couldn't do much harm to him, his mind irrationally screamed at him that she would be the end of him. His last shred of logic urged him to run down the halls. He stumbled forward, eyes constantly searching for a way out of his hell.

Behind him, he could hear Bowser demanding the frightened maid where he went. Before he could hear her answer, Dark Pit ducked behind a corner. All of the Faire's senses were at its max in order for their master to survive this ordeal. Dark Pit's eyes shifted left and right for some sign of salvation. He barely slowed down as he continued to run down the halls. Several servants started at the sight of him, some fainting, others screaming. Their actions confused Dark Pit even more. He could feel tears of horror prickling at his eyes at the thought of not escaping. He just wanted to get out of here. He just wanted to leave this hellhole.

Dark Pit searched frantically for the exit. No matter where he looked, the walls, the windows, the plants, they all looked the same. The desperation and fear grew inside of Dark Pit. Sweating bullets, he ran towards a door. He pulled on it, realized it was locked, and went another way. There were no sense in his actions; he was just a confined animal trying to find his way out. He could feel a strange shadow approaching him from behind. The dark presence made his actions more irregular and distressed. He felt like the shadow could wrap itself around him any moment and stop him completely from escaping. When Dark Pit was once sure the shadow touched him, he screamed in fright and knocked over a pot in the hall. The shattering of porcelain calmed him slightly as he realized that it was just his imagination. But he still couldn't shake off the feeling as he continued through the large castle.

After several failures, Dark Pit opened a large wooden door. One of the most beautiful sights greeted him. Lush greens spread from the castle entrance all towards the castle exit. Tall trees towered above the smaller plants. A few benches were placed so that any occupant of the castle could relax for a bit. Flat stones connected the entrance to large, wooden doors. Dark Pit realized that his escape was just beyond those doors. Without a second thought, the Faire sprinted for his salvation.

…

"Your Majesty!" the maid entered her lord's chambers cautiously. She located the king at his desk. King Marth ignored her and flipped a page of his book. The maid bowed deeply, "Your Majesty! Lord Bowser said that the angel has escaped!"

She sensed the king's presence disappearing. Instead, a demonic aura took his place. It shook the poor servant to her core. Rapid footsteps startled her. An unforgiving hand shoved her out of the way. She knocked her head against the wall, crying out in pain. When she looked up, her face paled at the sight of the fury on King Marth's face. Without a word to his servant, the king stormed down the hall. He knew exactly where Dark Pit was heading and already formulated a plan to recapture the disobedient prisoner. He swore to himself that he would punish the Faire severely for this.

He met with Bowser and some of his soldiers in the halls. Bowser bowed deeply, "M-my apologies, Your-."

"I'll deal with you later," King Marth's low voice was enough to instill fear in the huge AlBaest. He glared at his soldiers, "Head up to the archways. Ready your crossbows. I want that prisoner alive and well. Understand?" The soldiers saluted in acknowledgement. Without another word they rushed towards the stairs. King Marth turned his glare towards the AlBaest, "Get Sir Ike. Tell him to apprehend and bring the prisoner to me."

"A-as you wish, Your Majesty," Bowser gulped. If only he had the speed he used now to find Ike before Dark Pit escaped. The whole fiasco could have been avoided. King Marth glowered after the AlBaest's back. He clenched his fist tightly. Although the king was a master at hiding his emotions, he couldn't stop the fury from showing on his face. The servants still working in the night wisely avoided the halls. From experience, they knew to expect the unexpected from their king. And this situation was certainly unexpected.

"You want death that badly, Dark Pit?" King Marth whisked his way up the stairs to track the soldiers' progress. He wasn't going to let his prisoner get away, not if he could help it.

Dark Pit willed his exhausted legs to go faster. His eyes threatened to close for a proper rest, but the Faire shook away his fatigue. He was so close! Just so close to breathing that air of liberty!

As Dark Pit reached close to the middle of the courtyard, he heard a violent hiss. A crossbow bolt soon found its way two feet away from Dark Pit's side. His eyes widened in fear once more, recognizing the most dangerous part of the escape. Without slowing, he scanned upwards and saw multiple soldiers on the archway aiming crossbows at him. A familiar figure in blue attire strolled down the stones, keeping his eyes on the target. Even though the group towered over Dark Pit at an unbelievably height, the Faire still felt the penetrating gaze of his tormenter, King Marth. At the realization, Dark Pit's body froze. His muscles locked themselves into place as he stared helplessly at the king. His heart nearly stopped, the fear of being recaptured and tortured infecting him. Dark Pit could see the shadow closing in to wrap its arms around him.

A skidding sound woke the Faire from his trance. The bolt landed only a foot away. Dark Pit shook his head quickly. He pushed his legs past the limit. Even with the danger of the crossbows piercing his skin, Dark Pit vowed that he would move forward. He would escape with his life or die trying.

Seeing how the prisoner wouldn't stop his sprint, the soldiers aimed their crossbows. They knew that killing him meant they themselves would get killed. The veteran soldiers also knew that hurting him was not an option. Because of that, they were careful not to shoot too close in fear that their shot might get lucky. The rookies were a different matter altogether. One soldier, a fat man with a zig-zag mustache, aimed his crossbow at Dark Pit's leg. He pulled the trigger, and the bolt sang its song. Faster than the eye could follow, the ammo pierced Dark Pit's right leg. Blinding pain seared through the muscle. Dark Pit's mind barely registered what happened when he fell to the ground. His mind caught up, and the Faire screamed in agony. Dark Pit recognized the familiar sensation of blood flowing down his skin, this time in his calf. His hands sought for the injury instinctively. The tears he so desperately held back trailed down his face, more from fear than pain. He gritted his teeth angrily at his vulnerability.

"Wa-ha-ha! Got him!" the soldier shouted triumphantly. However he did not celebrate his victory for long. His eyes saw a blur and suddenly they met with a gray gaze. He felt more than heard the sickening crunch of his nose breaking. Wario cried out in pain. Blood streamed from his large nose and the pain was almost unbearable. He couldn't see who slammed his head against the stone railings, but he felt an ominous presence behind him. The presence was unlike anything Wario experienced. It wouldn't let him raise his head, the unbelievable strength stilling his movements. His heart pounded in unfamiliar horror, one that could only be triggered by a certain someone.

King Marth dug his nails into the soldier's head, earning a groan. Though his face held no emotion, the soldiers recognized the flame of fury in his eyes. "…I said…I wanted him alive and well…did I not?" the king turned to face the captain. He bowed deeply to his liege. Thankfully, his falcon helmet hid the clear fear in his eyes as he wanted to shrink back from the gaze but knew it was impossible.

"I-I apologize, Your Majesty. He was a new recruit; he didn't understand."

"Of course…" his tone didn't sound very understanding. The king stared down to where Dark Pit was immobilized. A cruel smile still appeared on his face. Although the soldier's incompetence injured his sweet, little Dark Pit, King Marth knew that now the Faire had no chance of escaping. All he had to do was wait for Sir Ike to retrieve him. But instead of taking Dark Pit back into his cell, King Marth had a far more delicious plan.

His eyes narrowed when he noticed how the black-winged figure below began to move. Despite the painful injury in his leg, Dark Pit continued to crawl towards the exit. He had promised himself that he would escape with his life, or die trying. He didn't care about the injury in his leg. All he cared about was the taste of freedom that he could very soon taste if he could just make it out the gates. Even though the exit seemed impossibly far, Dark Pit didn't care. Anything was better than his imprisonment.

Suddenly, Dark Pit saw a large sword bury itself into the ground, effectively stopping him. The Faire flinched at the violent trust. He turned his head to meet the expressionless Sir Ike. It seemed as though King Marth was really the only one who could break his spirit as Dark Pit immediately spat in the warlord's direction, "Get the fuck away from me, Human."

The swordsman didn't respond. He wondered to himself why King Marth fussed over such a small Faire like this one before him. Ike also wondered how he would be able to pick the Faire. He considered grabbing his wings, but he noticed the two bloody holes in them. At once, Ike inspected the Faire once more. He blanched at the sight of multiple scars all over Dark Pit's body. As Faires had faster recovery ability than Humans, the wounds King Marth inflicted on Dark Pit already healed to leave the scars. Ike finally guessed what Dark Pit meant to King Marth, and it surprised him greatly. If his assumptions were correct, then he would have to treat this Faire with extreme care. Ike finally decided on how to pick him up. The warlord reached down and pulled Dark Pit by the arm, earning a gasp of pain.

"I told you to get the fuck away from me!" Dark Pit swung a weak punch at the bluenette's face. However his strength was lacking and Ike was able to dodge it easily. He reached down and tucked his arm underneath Dark Pit's knees. The warlord effortlessly lifted Dark Pit bridal-style. The Faire's position caused him to blush rapidly. Using the last bit of his strength, Dark Pit thrashed against Ike's hold. However, the warlord remained as silent as ever as he turned to walk back into the castle. "Let me go, Human! Fucking let me go! I'm not going back! I don't want to! Fuck your king! Fuck his soul to Hades!" Dark Pit childishly beat the bluenette's chest with feeble fists.

Ike ignored the Faire, but his eyes hinted his sympathy. Although he truly wanted to let the Faire go, it was against his orders. Whatever King Marth desired, Sir Ike would follow it. He sensed the blood dripping from Dark Pit's wounds and quickened his pace. It wouldn't do for the Faire to die of blood lost. Ike swiftly entered the palace. The only signs of Dark Pit in the courtyard were a few black feathers and the bloodstains, one large puddle halfway to the exit and drops trailing back to the entrance.

King Marth smirked when he saw his trusted warlord carry Dark Pit away. He turned to the captain of the guard with a soft smile. "Captain Falcon…I want you to punish that soldier of yours…as you see fit…" The larger man saluted and bowed. He understood that King Marth didn't mean how _he_ saw fit; rather he should use his imagination and wonder how the king himself would punish for such disobedience.

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

The king's smile widened every so slightly, "Good…" He flung Wario away from him. Without sparing the men another glance, he started down to meet Ike and his prisoner. He licked his lips in anticipation at what Dark Pit was about to be subject to, looking forward to it already. He reached ground level and walked briskly forward. Curious servants faced the floor in an attempt to hide their thoughts. King Marth ignored all in favor of the recaptured Faire. He relished the thought of making Dark Pit scream his name.

Sir Ike reached his lord's chambers. By now, Dark Pit had given up fighting back to conserve what little strength he had. Instead he buried his face into the warlord's armor. Thanks to the metal, Ike was incapable of feeling the Faire's tears. However he heard muffled sobbing and surmised how fearful the angel was. He would be too, if he was subjected to the horrors that Dark Pit faced. Although his conscience screamed at him to let the Faire go, Ike pushed on. He opened the door slowly. He sighed in relief when he saw that his lord wasn't occupying the room at the moment. The warlord carried Dark Pit over to the bed. He gently laid the Faire down. Dark Pit glared at him venomously, hastily wiping the tears away. He winced slightly when he put a bit pressure on his injured leg. But compared to what King Marth did to him, the bolt wound was nothing.

His job done, Sir Ike turned and left. Dark Pit remained silent, opting a scowl rather than heated words. The warlord paused at the door, a thought occurring. "Don't even think about escaping again. You'll only get hurt," with that, the warlord stepped out of his lord's chambers. Ike walked down the halls towards his own quarters. His mind wandered for a bit, his thoughts mainly reverting back to the curious subject of the dark angel. He knew about King Marth's "hobbies" and fallen victims. Ike usually turned a blind eye as he knew that even if he were to object, His Majesty would not listen. This case seemed to be different though. For the life of him, Ike could not see why King Marth cared so much about bringing his torture victim back "alive and well". His prey never last long, and when the time came, King Marth mercilessly threw them away. The warlord was surprised to see his lord taking such measures to recover Dark Pit.

Speak of the devil. King Marth sauntered down the halls towards his chambers. He smiled softly when he met his old friend. On sight, Ike immediately saluted before bowing his head. "Excellent work, Sir Ike…as expected of you…" the king praised. Thanks to his position, Ike was able to raise a surprised eyebrow at his lord's statement. Very rarely did the king ever praise anybody on anything.

"Your Majesty is too kind," Ike humbly said.

King Marth's smile widened slightly, "So you say…you're dismissed."

"…M-my lord…" the king took four steps before the warlord spoke up. Ike swallowed his nervousness down before continuing, "Your…Faire is quite wounded. I suggest getting a doctor to attend to his leg?"

"…In due time, Sir Ike…for now…he must learn his place…" King Marth chuckled as he dismissed Ike's statement. Without another thought to his old friend, King Marth opened up the doors to his chambers and slipped inside. Ike did look back for a brief moment before turning forward. Unfortunately, for Dark Pit, that was the best the warlord could do.

On King Marth's appearance, Dark Pit started. He scooched backwards, as if there was a secret pathway that would led him away from this hellhole. The Faire's eyes stared at the king tensely. He knew that the king was going to punish him for escaping. His heart pulsed rapidly as sweat dripped down his back. His throbbing leg did not help. When Ike had left, Dark Pit broke the arrowhead from the shaft. This allowed him to pull the arrow out without much trouble, despite the searing pain it inflicted. As a little revenge on his tormentor, Dark Pit ripped part of the bed sheets to create a crude bandage. The cloth immediately stained bright red. However, seeing King Marth before him, the Faire slightly regretted taking the bed sheet. Hopefully, the king wouldn't notice.

King Marth smiled wolfishly at Dark Pit, looking for all the world a snake about to devour a helpless bird. He walked towards the Faire, boots barely making a sound against the carpet. His eyes fell on the makeshift bandage, and his mouth formed a grimace. He made a mental note to check with Captain Falcon to ensure that Wario got what he deserved. Ignoring the bandage, King Marth's eyes hungrily drank the sight before them. Even though Dark Pit's body was quite emaciated from the lack of proper nutrition, the king still adored it. He smiled at the Faire's faint scars, desiring to trace each and every whiplash on his body.

"Let me go, fucktard," Dark Pit snarled at the king. King Marth raised an eyebrow at that. His smile twitched in amusement at the Faire's behavior.

"Oh? And what would you do if I don't?"

Dark Pit couldn't think up a proper answer. He knew that he was in no position to fight the king. After seeing how easily King Marth slammed the soldier's head on the stones, Dark Pit's flame of hope died. He might be trapped here forever, he realized. Tonight was his best bet of escaping. Yet he blew it when he decided to try and help the other prisoners. He really had nobody to blame but himself, and he hated it.

King Marth reached the bed. He moved to the side in order to get on. Dark Pit instinctively moved to the other side. Prepared for the obvious action, King Marth's hand shot out and gripped the Faire's wrist tightly. Dark Pit yelped in pain at the iron grasp. Terror joined the determination and hate in his eyes. King Marth licked his lips seductively as he pulled his pet closer to him. "Why don't we have a little fun tonight?" Upon hearing those words, Dark Pit's eyes widened. He immediately tugged away, attempting futilely to escape. Displeased with the Faire's actions, King Marth slapped him fiercely. The hit stopped the Faire almost immediately, reducing him to whimpers. King Marth smiled softly, "Much better…" He leaned in to kiss Dark Pit passionately. Unlike the kiss from earlier, King Marth let his tongue reach into Dark Pit's mouth.

Against his will, Dark Pit reacted. He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, his tongue responding to King Marth's. They held their kiss for a few moments before Dark Pit had to rear back for breath. Panting heavily, he could only look at King Marth through hazy eyes. The king smirked at the sight. His hand caressed Dark Pit's cheek in his gentle way before pushing him against the bed, compelling him to lie down. He released Dark Pit's wrist, certain that the Faire wouldn't escape. King Marth stripped his tunic and cloak, letting his clothes fall to the floor. Slipping off his pants, the king eased onto the bed.

He grabbed both of the Faire's wrists and held it above his head. Dark Pit opened his mouth to yell stop, but King Marth stopped him with another kiss. This one was rougher than their earlier kiss, catching Dark Pit by surprise. He squirmed underneath, but his lack of strength meant that he had little impact. Distracting his pet with the kiss, King Marth quickly removed Dark Pit's pants, almost ripping it in the process. The Faire gasped as he felt the cold night air touch his leaking shaft. King Marth chuckled against his lips at the Faire's response before breaking the kiss to allow him his next action. Without any preparation, King Marth spread Dark Pit's legs and swiftly thrust his own member into Dark Pit's tight hole.

"Ahh!" Dark Pit cried in pain and pleasure. The blood rushed to his face as he turned his head to the side in a futile attempt to cover it up. Tears dripped down the Faire's cheeks. He had never experienced anything so painful but pleasuring simultaneously. He felt the emotional void in him widen as he realized that King Marth just took something very precious to him away in that moment. Dark Pit didn't know what it was, but it made him empty inside. He gripped the pillow above him tightly, as if it would drive away the pain. Blood dripped from Dark Pit's hole, staining King Marth's bed.

"Ngh…You are mine, Dark Pit," King Marth snarled. "Understand? You can never leave me…I forbid it!" The king rammed repeatedly into the Faire, ignoring the blood that lubricated Dark Pit's hole.

"Hng! Ah…Aah! P-please…" Dark Pit sobbed. "Stop…I…don't want this-Ahhhh!"

Although he enjoyed the massaging sensation, King Marth frowned at Dark Pit's reactions. There was something wrong. He couldn't understand why he was feeling this way. He wanted to see his pet suffer, and that was exactly what was happening. However it didn't satisfy him. No. If anything, it strangely saddened him. King Marth stared at the trembling figure beneath him. Dark Pit refused to look at him. The king released Dark Pit's hands to turn the Faire's face towards him. His defiant, fearful red eyes turned to surprise.

King Marth's eyes…why did they express such sorrow now? Wasn't he the ruthless king that thrived on Dark Pit's pain? Where did he get this irregular emotion? King Marth stroked Dark Pit's cheeks, the Faire flinching at the touch. Although it felt the same as always, Dark Pit couldn't help but feel that there was…more meaning to it now. Why? What was happening? The king kissed the Faire once more, gently this time. He did not force his way through; he eased into it, freezing when Dark Pit tensed and continuing when Dark Pit relax. King Marth slowed down his thrusts as his hand lifted the Faire's head up tenderly. The pain began to disappear, leaving only pleasure to fill Dark Pit. His cries to stop vanished. Dark Pit moaned at the friction King Marth's member provided him. His arms snaked around the king's neck, gripping it tightly. The Faire pulled away, panting for breath. King Marth's hand slipped from its spot and pinched the hard, pink buds on Dark Pit's chest.

"Mnm! Hah…Ahhh, aahhh! More…" Dark Pit moaned. The king sped up his pace, his breath heavy with pleasure. One hand slid underneath Dark Pit's back, holding him close. The other hand stroked the Faire's wet shaft. The precum dripped down the king's hand as he continued to pleasure his pet from both front and back. King Marth closed his eyes to drown in the curious desire he found himself in. Never had he ever felt a sensation such as this. He felt the heat pooling at his abdomen. Dark Pit's cries elevated, signaling his close release. The king squeezed the Faire's member. Dark Pit's back arched and he climaxed, yelling lustfully without a care of dirtying King Marth. His ass squeezed the king's own length, prompting him to release his restraint. Moaning, King Marth shot his seed into Dark Pit. The Faire shuddered involuntarily at the wet feeling.

"Hah…hah…" the Faire breathed, his eyelids heavy. Hazy, red eyes drifted off to an exhausted sleep, leaving King Marth still sighing from their love-making. He slowly pulled out, leaving a white trail of liquid. The king focused on Dark Pit's sleeping face. Slumber often allowed one's mind to rest peacefully. Dark Pit was no exception, his closed eyes and deep breathing belying the challenges he struggled. King Marth reached towards Dark Pit's face, hesitating when he realized that cum covered his hand. He retracted it but continued to stare at the sleeping Faire. He couldn't understand this growing feeling inside him. It differed extremely from what he was used to. King Marth wasn't sure what to make of it nor what to do. Although this was meant as punishment, the king made it gentle on Dark Pit at the end. Why? Why did he enjoy seeing Dark Pit in pleasure more than in humiliation? He sat back, eyes still on Dark Pit. He slipped from the bed to clean up as much as possible. When he finished, King Marth caressed Dark Pit's forehead before slipping into bed with him.

* * *

 ***hides* ...I'm sorry!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

When Dark Pit woke up in King Marth's bed, the first thing he noticed was the aching in his lower region. He attempted to sit up, but he couldn't move without sending unfamiliar, painful jolts down his body. The Faire fell back onto the pillow in defeat. His eyes scanned his surroundings. The splendor of King Marth's room almost blinded Dark Pit. It seemed abnormally large for a single occupant. Multiple paintings of nature and people lavished the red walls. A quiet fireplace stood to the side, not yet providing warmth. A large window with gold, silk curtains and glass table crossed opposite of the fireplace. Dark Pit turned away from the window as a stream of sunlight flashed through. A grand chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling. There was an organized desk to one side accompanied by three walls of library. Dark Pit shuddered against the canopy bed's sheets. So used to the squalor of his prison cell, he felt like his presence in the room stained its beauty.

He clutched onto the sheets tightly and felt something soft envelop his body. He looked down to see himself wearing a white nightgown, his wings fitted easily through the holes in the back. Smooth as silk, soft as cotton, the nightgown made Dark Pit feel even more uncomfortable. He squirmed a bit before grimacing at the pain that shot through his leg. His legs also seemed to be stuck together. Dark Pit tossed the sheets away to find his feet bound together by a psychic lock. The Faire groaned at the magical item. The limitless combinations in a psychic lock made it almost impossible for anyone besides the owner to unlock it. Of course King Marth wouldn't take any chances after Dark Pit managed to almost escape…

The events of last night rushed back to him. His grip constricted, almost on the verge of ripping the sheets. Dark Pit could feel tears threatening to fall once more. He couldn't believe that King Marth would do something so shameless to him! Just the thought of last night wrenched Dark Pit's pride right out of his body. How could he let the king do as he wished with his body? And worse, how could he _like_ it? Dark Pit despised how his reactions subtly encouraged King Marth, no doubt the king noticing them. It made him lose further faith in himself, and he cursed the king once more for his misfortunes. But…what did the king's expression mean? Why was there sorrow in his eyes? Dark Pit couldn't forget that moment as something in the king's air seemed to change.

The double doors across the bed creaked open. The Faire tensed at the movement. He refused to relax even when the newcomer was a pink-clad maid. The blonde smiled brightly at Dark Pit as she strolled across the room. She held out a tray of freshly-baked bread and glass of water as she stopped at the edge of the bed. The Faire's mouth salivated from the wafting smell, but he held himself back.

"Good morning," she sang. "His Majesty has requested me to bring you your breakfast before your checkup." Even though breakfast smelled awfully good…Dark Pit refused to eat it. What was left of his pride urged him to reject it. He turned his head away, avoiding the maid's gaze. Her bright mood faltered at the Faire's stubbornness. She placed the tray on the nearby nightstand. "Please eat something. I promise nobody poisoned your food."

That _was_ one of the reasons why Dark Pit refused to eat the food. The main reason was he just didn't want to accept anything from King Marth, especially after everything he did to him. However, his stomach growled loudly in protest as the tempting aroma of food wafted through the air. Dark Pit blushed in embarrassment, but the maid simply giggled at that.

" _Please_ ," she tried once more. The Faire didn't respond for a few moments before turning back to face the tray. A skinny hand reached out tentatively to grab a buttered roll on the plate. Once he grabbed it, Dark Pit snapped his hand back, as if frightened that the maid would slap him. She continued to smile encouragingly at the Faire. Dark Pit then paid her no mind as he silently bit the bread. His eyes widened at the deliciousness of the roll and devoured it. It melted away on his tongue the moment it touched it. He finished it in a few seconds and grabbed another piece off the plate. He swallowed it in seconds.

"A doctor will come to check on you shortly," the maid informed as she watched the Faire eat. Just as she finished her sentence, the doors creaked open again. Expecting the devil king to emerge, Dark Pit flinched. He breathed a sigh of relief when a short man in a white coat with a large, black bag appeared instead. The doctor strolled towards the bed.

"Hello, Peach. How is he?"

"Oh, I do believe he's doing better, Doctor," Peach smiled delightfully. "I managed to get him to eat."

"That's good," he looked at Dark Pit, who only glared back. "Hello there. I'm Doctor Mario. I'm here to check on your condition."

"I don't need any help," Dark Pit spat. "I'm not like you Humans; I can heal myself up."

Doctor Mario nodded. Although he resented the Faire's attitude, he couldn't blame him for it. "I understand you Faires have an amazing healing ability compared to Humans. However, I realize that you've been…in quite a sickly state. It's better to have professional help rather than deal with it yourself." His sharp eyes turned towards Dark Pit's wings pointedly. The Faire's blood rushed to his face and he flapped his wings together in a futile effort to hide the holes. He looked away from their gaze as he remembered those torturous moments. Indeed, despite his healing ability, Dark Pit could still feel the pain etched into his skin after weeks passed. Every whip, sting, touch, it burned the Faire's memory. Besides he might have been infected with something during the time he spent in his cell. He understood the importance of his health but at the same time…the Faire rubbed his arm, still refusing to acknowledge the doctor's point.

"Let me take a look at that leg of yours," the doctor said gently. He waited for Dark Pit's consent. If the Faire remained stubborn, there would be no use for the doctor to forcefully examine him. Dark Pit just might hurt himself more in his struggle against Doctor Mario. Peach switched her gaze back and forth, holding her breath against the tense air. It took a few moments, but Dark Pit finally relented. He pulled slightly on his gown, showing the doctor his rough bandage. Doctor Mario smiled reassuringly, "You'll be better in no time."

…

King Marth's eyes wandered blankly at the documents in front of him. He stared at one intensely, as if it would answer all his questions in the blink of an eye. When it didn't, the king leaned back in his chair with a soft sigh. He scribbled something down before allowing his mind to wander again. Despite all the wandering, his mind's eyes kept returning to Dark Pit. Even though King Marth made sure that the Faire was fine in the morning, he couldn't help but contemplate how his pet was doing. He noticed that he had been doing that a lot more often. It used to be that King Marth would think about Dark Pit for a moment, imagine his screams, and move onto the next matter at hand. Now the king couldn't stop thinking about him. It drove him mad as he couldn't find the reason why Dark Pit plagued his mind day and night to the point of it distracting him.

His servant placed a teacup on his desk and backed away. The king took the cup, swirled, and sipped it. He finally managed to push Dark Pit away for his important documents. Before he could read a sentence, his doors burst open. King Marth frowned slightly at the large Faire sauntering into his office. He rested his head against his hand, ready to accept what news Ganondorf brought him.

"Your Majesty," Ganondorf bowed deeply to his liege.

King Marth waved a languid hand, "Rise…what do you want, Ganondorf?" The Faire obeyed immediately. He displayed a proud smirk, obviously pleased with himself. He placed a map onto the king's desk, smoothing it out. Different color symbols littered the parchment; red X's, blue circles, green trails marked a hidden language only few understood. King Marth raised an eyebrow at the map. He looked at his warlord with a bored expression. "…And?"

"Your Majesty, we have successfully taken this area," Ganondorf pointed to a large, blue circle east of their home. The tree symbols suggested the area was lush and fertile. King Marth's mouth twitched slightly, but his expression stayed the same. "As of now, our country consists of this," the Faire circled a large region, including the circle before. "We have taken part of both the AlBaest's and Faire's lands. If we continue, we could very well control the whole continent, Your Majesty." The king's mouth twitched even more into a soft smile. He blinked at the Faire.

"Interesting…I never considered…world domination before…" King Marth chuckled lightly. He pressed at the map, "Rest…continue when you…deem it worthy, Ganondorf…"

The taller being bowed once more, "Thank you, Your Majesty. Your conquest will finish soon enough." Ganondorf rolled the map and tucked it away. He saluted and inclined his head before backing out of the door.

King Marth rested his chin on his linked hands, musing. There was certainly merit to world domination. He would attain even more wealth and power. The toxic feeling of power, though deteriorating on the mind, was addicting to him. All would bow and submit to him. The king, for the life of him, could not imagine having no one to do his bidding. He would make everyone suffer for his amusement and enjoyment.

Except for Dark Pit.

The black-winged Faire stole across his mind once more. King Marth briefly looked away from his conquest to concentrate on the angel before him. The sight of his pet ensnared and led him away from his thoughts of domination. The gnawing sensation in his heart came back. King Marth scowled at the feeling. Once again, he could not understand what was happening to him. He thought about Dark Pit for just a second and his mind tumbled towards the Faire. Blind to the paperwork in front of him, King Marth imagined Dark Pit. He could clearly make out the Faire's red eyes, black wings, and scarred body. His arms twitched slightly; the desire to hold Dark Pit suddenly became unbearable. The king stood up and burst through the door, ignoring his servant's surprised start. He strolled purposefully down the halls towards his quarters, ignoring everybody in the vicinity.

Doctor Mario closed the doors to the king's chambers. He looked to the sound of footsteps and bowed quickly at the sight of his liege. King Marth stopped before the doctor, "Rise."

The doctor obeyed. However he kept his eyes to the ground. "Your Majesty…"

"How is he?"

"Much better, Your Majesty. His leg should be righted in a few days, thanks to my salve and his abilities. The holes in his wings, I'm afraid, are there to stay. They have gone too long without treatment, and it is impossible to regenerate the skin and feathers there, even with his innate healing. His Faire properties are what kept him alive for this long."

"…are you implying…that this is my fault?" King Marth's eyes narrowed at the doctor. Doctor Mario frantically shook his head, his heart beating in his ears.

"No, Your Majesty! I'm simply stating the facts as I see them! Besides that, he is healing up quite nicely and currently resting. He just needs a lot of sleep and food. Also…I highly recommend that you do not disturb him while he's recovering."

"…why?"

Doctor Mario could feel a sword slicing through his neck any moment. However he swallowed his fear, squared his shoulders, and looked straight into King Marth's eyes. What was his life compared to his patients'? If he feared dying, then he never should have become a doctor in the first place. "Dark Pit is confused and frightened yet insists putting on a brave face. I won't ask what you did, Your Majesty, but as of right now, your presence may hinder his recovery. Wait for at least two days before approaching him. Once he has healed up enough, I suggest you take him outside for a few hours every day. A caged Faire is a dead Faire."

King Marth barely changed his expression throughout the doctor's statement. He nodded slightly, "Dismissed…I may call on you again…to check Dark Pit's condition."

Doctor Mario hid a grin, "Of course, Your Majesty." King Marth watched as the doctor turned the corner. He stared at his own doors, thinking about what the doctor had just said. In the past, King Marth probably would have been able to follow the doctor's orders. However, he felt a strange urge to simply look at Dark Pit. His hand reached for the knob, hesitating once he touched it. King Marth closed his eyes to drive away the voice nagging to listen to the doctor and opened the door.

Silence greeted him. There were no starts, no flinches. King Marth looked to the bed. A lump rose and fell slightly, indicting somebody's presence. He strolled over to the bed quickly. He grabbed the covers and tossed them away. A soft smile crossed his face at the sight of Dark Pit sleeping. His wings were spread out behind him as he lay on his side, arms out. His breathing mirrored that of last night's, reflecting his peaceful face. Before he knew it, King Marth's hand was halfway to stroking Dark Pit's cheeks. He stopped just in time. However the close proximity made it extremely tempting for King Marth to not leave the Faire be. He silently struggled with himself for a moment before settling on a decision.

The king finally lightly caressed Dark Pit's forehead. He froze when the Faire mumbled something inaudible. He relaxed when Dark Pit stopped moving. His smile twitched, threatening to widen. King Marth retracted his hand. It wasn't enough for the king, but he had to be satisfied with what he was able to do today. He didn't want to injure Dark Pit to the point of no return.

Something clicked in the devil king. However, even he wasn't sure what it was. It didn't exactly change his demeanor, but something…just something about him changed. King Marth wasn't certain of his approval, but somehow it made him slightly lighter. The king backed away from the bed after tossing the covers back onto Dark Pit. He turned and left the room as silently, swiftly as he came in. Although King Marth left the room and Dark Pit, the Faire crept back into his mind and continued to plague him throughout the day.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

For the past days, Dark Pit didn't see King Marth once. He thought it was strange as when he was in prison, the king would visit him at least once a week. When, he didn't know, but the king then gradually increased it to seeing him once every two days. Now, despite Dark Pit staying in King Marth's room where he had easier access, the king seemed to have disappeared from his life. No torture, no kisses, no assault, nothing. The Faire couldn't figure out the reason why. King Marth clearly still wanted him as evident of the psychic lock around his legs (It was to Doctor Mario's surprise that his wound healed nicely and rapidly. It still stung occasionally). Yet Dark Pit hadn't seen his face for at least two days. You would think that the Faire should run into the king at least once considering he was stuck in the chambers, but no. Dark Pit hadn't seen King Marth.

That didn't mean that the Faire didn't feel somebody's presence. Was it King Marth's? He wasn't sure. When he dozed off at times, Dark Pit could feel something gentle stroking his forehead. He willed his eyes to open during those times, but the fatigue always took him, forbidding him from finding out their identity. Then he would hear the click of the door sliding into place. At night, Dark Pit often had nightmares. He would find himself running away from a shadowy presence with horrible, nightmare-styled sluggishness. He would trip and the shadow almost closed in on him. Then it would suddenly melt away as Dark Pit felt someone embrace him warmly. Even though he didn't know who his savior was, he would return the embrace and ease into a more peaceful dream. That someone would always disappear when morning came, further confusing Dark Pit.

The Faire drew his knees to his chest, hugging them closely. Everything was new and different to him now. He had comfortable clothes, delicious meals, and a warm bed. For the life of him, he couldn't understand all the good fortune piling in his lap. Clearly, the only person who could grant Dark Pit such things was King Marth. But that possibly couldn't be! Wasn't King Marth the one who imprisoned and tortured him in the first place? Why would he begin to treat Dark Pit so well? Perhaps it was a new torture method in which he made the victim comfortable before taking everything away to crush any hope the victim had? It was certainly King Marth's style, but somehow Dark Pit knew that wasn't the case. Then why-?

The door creaking open interrupted his musing. Dark Pit looked up, expecting to see either Doctor Mario or Peach. He flinched noticeably when he realized who it was. King Marth chuckled when he saw the frightened movement. He closed the door behind him, the soft smile still on his face.

"So…you're up…how nice…" the king sauntered towards the bed. Dark Pit could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He believed that it was from fear, but deep down, a voice told him it was due to something else. He quickly shooed that voice away and held his breath as his eyes followed the king's path. The Faire scooted away when King Marth got close to the bed, yet he was still in reach. King Marth extended his hand and tenderly touched Dark Pit's cheek. Dark Pit fought the urge to turn away and continued to look at the Human.

"Why are you doing this?" he finally asked. He had to know. He had to know why King Marth suddenly "turned over a new leaf". The change in the king's approach to him seemed to grant Dark Pit a little bit of courage to stand up against him.

"I don't understand what you're talking about…" King Marth stroked both of his pet's cheeks. His soft smile widened slightly when he saw no signs of abandonment in Dark Pit's eyes. Only a determination that made the Faire so…irresistible…

"Don't act like you don't know," Dark Pit pushed the hands away. "You've tortured me for how many days on end and now you're letting me sleep in your bed! Why are you doing this?!"

King Marth enjoyed seeing the Faire floundering. For some reason, it made him want to widen his smile and tease Dark Pit some more. However he stopped himself just in time. Truth to be told, King Marth himself did not know the reason. He just suddenly found it distasteful to torture Dark Pit almost to the point of death. He used to love to see the Faire miraculously heal his wounds that King Marth inflicted on him. Now, if he wanted to torture Dark Pit, it was on an extremely smaller scale than it used to be.

"Do I need a reason to do such dealings? You do not need to know what I have planned. You only need to submit," King Marth slid his hands down Dark Pit's arms seductively. The Faire's face immediately flushed at the contact. He looked away, making the king's eyes flash in apprehension. He roughly grabbed the Faire's chin and pulled his head back to face him. Dark Pit had no choice in the matter. He opened his mouth to protest when King Marth's lips crashed onto his. His objection died on his tongue. The Faire moaned against the kiss. His eyes threatened to close to have the full impact. However the his recovery revived his rebellious nature against the king. Dark Pit managed to push King Marth away albeit his blushing face suggesting he wanted otherwise. He stared defiantly at the irritated man before him.

"I'm not your toy! So stop doing these things to me!"

A more vivid emotion finally appeared in King Marth's eyes. He grabbed Dark Pit's wrist roughly, earning a small cry of pain. "Whether you like it or not, you are my pet, Dark Pit," he whispered harshly. "And I won't allow such disobedience. Do you really wish to return to your cell below the castle? Or would you rather stay here?"

"I would rather rot in Hades than stay here with you!" Dark Pit spat.

A cruel smirk replaced King Marth's normally soft smile. "You and I…both know how afraid you are of death. You won't go down without a struggle. But when stagnant, you fear death. You fear of what death would bring in the afterlife. You believe that if you manage to fight until the end before you die, you would be saved somehow. But if you don't fight, then death would only punish you. Isn't that the reason why you never committed suicide when you still lived in that filth of yours? Hmm, my sweet, little Dark Pit?"

The Faire's eyes widened in surprise. He dropped them from King Marth's gaze to stare at the white sheets. The king was right on the mark. Dark Pit didn't mind dying when he fought his hardest. However the idea of just dying when you haven't tried _anything_ to make your situation better sickened him. There was a reason why he was given life, and he was sure that being King Marth's toy wasn't the main reason.

The king's hand gently caressed Dark Pit's cheeks once more. He leaned in close, his hot breath tickling Dark Pit's neck. The Faire held his breath. King Marth lightly whispered into his ear, "Death has a high price to pay. So don't even think about it anymore, Dark Pit." He straightened up and walked away. His statement wasn't what surprised Dark Pit the most. What shocked him was that King Marth simply waved his hand over the psychic lock, and a soft click echoed. The chains fell from Dark Pit's legs, allowing him movement of his feet. The Faire looked at the king in disbelief at the new development. King Marth didn't turn back. Once he opened the door, he said, "You have free access of the room. Don't leave unless you have my permission." Without another word, King Marth shut the door behind him.

Dark Pit continued to stare at the closed doors. Now King Marth's actions well and truly confused him. Even though Dark Pit tried to escape once, King Marth removed his bondage so he could freely move around the room? But why? Why would the king act so gentle despite his still-devilish self? Dark Pit couldn't understand what the fuck was going on in his captor's head.

He shook his legs, feeling the blood flowing through them. However Dark Pit didn't move from his spot. He still wasn't sure whether everything was just a set-up for King Marth's new torture method. After spending more than three days on the king's bed, Dark Pit was sure it was the safest place he could be when the king himself was not around. He spent most of the day sitting on the bed, only slipping off for any necessities. Even when Peach or Doctor Mario visited him, he refused to move. When night fell, Dark Pit pretended to sleep.

His eyes almost squinted shut when light from the outside shined in briefly before disappearing. Footsteps almost too soft to be heard crept towards the bed. Dark Pit slowed his breathing, yet he couldn't slow his heart's pulsing. The only person who could be here right now was King Marth. The Faire felt the adrenaline pumping through his body at the thought of his torturer hovering over his body. He willed himself to stay as still as possible.

A tender hand stroked Dark Pit's forehead. Unlike the hands from this morning, this hand was warm and understanding. Dark Pit almost crossed the idea that it really was King Marth. It was too abnormal for the devil king to have such a loving touch as this hand here. The hand soon disappeared. The person left the bed for the bathroom, the light shine signaling so. Dark Pit continued to feign his sleepy state, hoping to confirm his suspicions.

Dark Pit felt like an hour passed when the person finally emerged from the bathroom. The footsteps approached the bed once again. This time, the person lightly slipped onto it. Dark Pit felt gentle hands caress and move his wings into a new, yet comfortable position. Then, the familiar arms from his dreams embraced him. Dark Pit's breath hitched at the contact. He felt somebody press against his back, their head lying only centimeters away from his own. Their breathing slowed, indicating their rest.

Dark Pit instantly knew that it was King Marth. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, it was King Marth who stroked his forehead comfortingly every day and embraced him warmly every night. The Faire knew the king's touch too well; his exhaustion other times clouded his wits. Normally, he would squirm from the touch of his tormenter. However Dark Pit couldn't bring himself to do that. For some reason, he liked the feeling of King Marth embracing him. It confused him as he couldn't understand why the fuck he would like his tormentor hugging him. Maybe King Marth's torture finally did him in and made him more mental than he should be. Or perhaps there was a different explanation to all of this…

Fatigue settled in as Dark Pit's eyes drooped. They finally closed to allow their owner to sleep peacefully. Unconsciously Dark Pit snuggled in a bit closer to King Marth. A small smile appeared on the king's face as he tightened his hug slightly in response.

…

Dark Pit found himself limping down the halls with Sir Ike behind him the next day. Earlier that morning, Peach had informed Dark Pit that before he left the castle for the next few days, King Marth had given him permission to explore the castle. The maid also warned the Faire that escaping was not an option. To ensure Dark Pit's complete obedience, however, King Marth ordered Ike to watch over the Faire.

Although Sir Ike was not one to question his liege's decision, his current orders had him wondering about the Faire again. When he arrived to escort Dark Pit around, the Faire glared at him. Not that Ike minded, but it did get a bit annoying when Dark Pit attempted to lose the warlord. Unfortunately for the Faire, Sir Ike lived in the castle his whole life and knew the structure like the back of his hand. Eventually, Dark Pit gave up and wandered around the castle. He often hurried past the servants due to how they would stop and stare at the black-winged Faire in a white, long-sleeved gown with the muscular warlord following him. Dark Pit hated drawing attention. Yet many people occupied the multiple rooms and halls the Faire strolled in. He frequently turned his head to find a quiet place to relax for a bit. Of course he could have returned to King Marth's chambers, but after spending so many days in that place it sickened him. He had to get out at least once.

A hand tapped Dark Pit's shoulder. He jumped at the contact and whirled around. Sir Ike drew back his hand. The Faire scowled at the warlord. He was annoyed with how easily the Human scared him with that tap. Sir Ike ignored the scowl. "Follow me," he said as he walked past the Faire. Dark Pit stared after the larger man for a moment before obeying. Despite his wishes to escape, he couldn't help but follow the warlord. His directing was gentle, something Dark Pit wouldn't expect. The Faire was also curious why Sir Ike would be leading him somewhere when the warlord wordlessly trailed after him most of the day. They walked in silence until they came upon a wooden door. Ike pulled it open, standing off to the side for Dark Pit to go first.

Dark Pit gingerly stepped outside, shading his eyes against the warm rays of the sun. Birds flew overhead, greeting the rustling leaves of the trees with high-pitched chirps. The sweet scent of flowers rose in the air and tickled the Faire's nose. In the middle of the gardens a stone fountain splashed water joyfully. Dark Pit slowly walked towards the fountain. He turned his head to drink in the beautiful sights around him. He enjoyed the view of the cerulean skies, musing how differently it seemed to look without any glass baring the way. His wings flapped in slight apprehension. Sir Ike watched the Faire closely. He had been informed that Dark Pit could not fly, so it was all right to let the Faire go outside albeit in an enclosed space. Yet there seemed to be no sign of Dark Pit finding an escape route. He seemed to be captivated with King Marth's garden.

The Faire reached the fountain. He looked at its cool waters, startling slightly at his own reflection. He looked the same as ever with his messy, raven hair and ruby eyes. Yet the air around him seemed different somehow. Dark Pit couldn't explain it; he just felt it. His head snapped up at the sound of footsteps. He turned to see Sir Ike a few feet away from him, his stern face soften at the lovely views around him.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Sir Ike said, his eyes staring at the trees. Dark Pit turned back to the fountain. He leaned over the stones, resting his body on it.

"It's a pity it belongs to that bastard," he whispered to himself, making sure that the warlord didn't hear. At the mention of King Marth, Dark Pit could have sworn that he saw his face in the waters. He blinked once, and the king was gone. However he still lingered in the Faire's mind. An idea struck him. He couldn't get anything from King Marth when he questioned him. Maybe if he asked the oaf behind him, Dark Pit would know what's up. He surmised that Sir Ike should know something, seeing how King Marth trusted him with the Faire. "Why is he doing all of this?" Dark Pit raised his voice.

Ike looked at the Faire. He had just asked the question that plagued Ike's own mind. He honestly didn't know what ran through his liege's head concerning the Faire. He had his suspicions, but he never thought he would equate it to his old friend. King Marth was the last person that Ike thought would be able to fall in love.

"…I don't know…"

"You don't know?" Dark Pit's mocking tone grated the warlord slightly. Straightening up, the Faire looked at Ike, seeing the apprehension in his eyes.

"I don't know," Sir Ike emphasized. "I don't know why he captured you. I don't know why he tortured you. I don't know why he's kept you all this time. I don't know why he told me to bring you here. _I don't know_."

"Wait. He told you to bring me here?" Dark Pit was incredulous. "Why the fuck would he do that?"

"His Majesty does what he wishes. We don't question; we follow his orders."

"Hmph, should have expected that from a dog," Dark Pit muttered. Sir Ike's eyes flared at the insult. He leaned forward, putting himself at eye level with the Faire. He resisted the urge to grab the Faire's collar. Dark Pit didn't flinch from Ike's fearsome presence and stood his ground.

Ike forced through gritted teeth, "You know firsthand what His Majesty does to people who displease him. It's a miracle you're still alive, you wrench." Understanding flashed in Dark Pit's eyes. He looked away from the warlord, acknowledging his point. Sir Ike gave a slight nod in gratitude. He straightened up, "Even though we sometimes want to, we can't go against his orders. I believe you know how cruel His Majesty can be."

"Tell me about it," Dark Pit unconsciously rubbed his arm. "He's…" The Faire shuddered, searching for a word. Sir Ike stared at Dark Pit. Perhaps it was the sun, but the warlord could have sworn he saw Dark Pit's cheeks tainted pink. "Never mind," Dark Pit muttered. He found the word but felt embarrassed that that was what he thought of the king. His other, vulgar words didn't seem to fit, or at least, describe King Marth accurately. Only that shame-filled one did. He sat down on one of the benches, attempting to drive the king from his mind. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't stop wondering why King Marth suddenly ordered Sir Ike to take him to a place that he would undoubtedly like. The awkward silence wrapped around them, preventing one from speaking without some tension. Both didn't like the king's actions, one more so than the other. However, one sworn his loyalty to King Marth. The other didn't and continued to curse the king's existence albeit a bit less with each passing day.

Another door creaked open, causing both outsiders to gratefully abandon their tension. Roy strolled towards the fountain, distracted by some documents in his hands. A slight movement caught his eye and the advisor looked. His eyes widened in surprise at the black-winged Faire in front of him. He froze, the papers slipping from his grasp. The documents slapping the ground seemed to snap Roy out of it as he bent down to pick them up. Dark Pit moved to help, but Ike's hand on his shoulder stopped him. The warlord kneeled to gather the papers for his friend.

"Roy, what are you doing here?" Sir Ike asked as he handed the parchments to the redhead. Roy snatched the documents away, a bit too fast for Sir Ike's liking. The redhead seemed to relax after having all his papers in his hands. He glanced at Dark Pit before reverting his eyes back to his friend.

"I'm using the garden as a short-cut to get through the castle," Roy replied. "I have to go and deal with some town riots now." The advisor sighed deeply, "You know what happened…"

"They weren't happy with the raised taxes?" Ike blanched.

The redhead shook his head, "Of course they weren't. Why can't His Majesty see that?! The people barely make enough to feed themselves and now he's raising the taxes?!"

"His Majesty said he would provide for the people…"

"If they are able to make the journey to his castle! His Majesty refuses to send the food out to the needy towns! He decreed that should the people need food, they will find the time to journey through dangerous lands and seas to the castle!" Roy shook his head in frustration. "I don't understand why you continue to defend him, Sir Ike. You know as well as I how much our country has fallen because of his cruel rulings. Permit me to go resolve His Majesty's mistakes." The redhead stormed off. If Ike wasn't distracted by Roy's hurtful comments, then he might have noticed the second glance Roy gave to Dark Pit. The Faire, of course, returned the look. For some reason, the advisor seemed quite confused when he looked at Dark Pit. Despite his curiosity of the redhead's behavior, a more pressing issue was at hand.

The Faire turned to the dismayed warlord, watching his reaction. Sir Ike stood silently, still processing what had been said. It was true; the bluenette couldn't help but defend King Marth's actions. He knew they were immoral in every way. However his loyalty dominated him and caused him to submit to His Majesty. He sighed in resignation. If he hadn't been friends with King Marth since the beginning, perhaps he would have had the courage to stand against him. However, it was because he had been one of King Marth's closest friends that he couldn't go against the king. He, unlike most others, knew what Prince Marth was like before he was crowned king. "His Majesty wasn't all that bad…" Sir Ike muttered to himself.

"Prove it," Dark Pit said archly upon hearing what the warlord suddenly said. He crossed his arms, the stubbornness clear on his face. "If he wasn't all that bad, then he wouldn't have captured, tortured, and assaulted me, would he? The redhead's right; how you can keep defending that bastard?"

"His Majesty wasn't always like that!" Ike erupted. Dark Pit flinched at the sudden intensity of the warlord's statement. "He only changed after he lost his mother! Anybody would have snapped after they saw their mother in the same state as Her Highness that day!"

Dark Pit's eyes softened briefly before hardening a bit. He stood up from his bench and stared right into Sir Ike's eyes. "That…is a pathetic excuse for his actions. He took me…away from my village, and my family. I shouldn't feel sorry for-." The Faire flapped his wings aggravatingly. Some sixth sense told him that somebody was watching him. He scanned the area quickly. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Perhaps his mind was just playing tricks on him. However he could feel somebody's eyes hungrily pouring into his back. He whipped around to look behind him. Only a squirrel scurrying up a tree greeted him. Yet he still couldn't shake off that feeling. He hugged himself tightly, as if that would prevent somebody from spying on him.

Sir Ike immediately saw Dark Pit's discomfort. Despite the Faire's rude attitude towards him, he reminded himself that King Marth ordered him to watch him. That included Dark Pit's wellbeing. The warlord asked, "Do you…want to go back inside now?" Dark Pit silently nodded. It seemed to Sir Ike that something in the garden had the Faire extremely spooked. He could feel something hiding as well but had no intent on attacking. Their main purpose was to just spy. Ike smoothly drew his sword and threw it to where Dark Pit had looked one last time, the sudden action surprising the Faire. He looked to where the broadsword slashed through the greenery and impeded into a hidden tree, scaring the birds into flight. The two waited for a moment, but nothing else came out.

"…Here, I'll take you back inside," Sir Ike ushered Dark Pit back the way they came. The Faire hesitated. He looked back to where the sword stayed.

"What about your sword?"

"I'll get it later after I finish my duties. Nobody would be able to steal Ragnell; it's too heavy for most," Ike replied, keeping his eyes to the front. "Would you like to go anywhere?"

"…His room. Just take me back there," Dark Pit mumbled. Sir Ike looked at the Faire in surprise. He knew from Dark Pit's tone that he held no love for the king. And yet Dark Pit wanted to return to his captor's chambers. Did something in the garden spook him that much?

Despite the questions in his head, Sir Ike held back his tongue. He nodded to the Faire, "Of course."

"…Thank you…for taking me out…and telling me about King Marth," Dark Pit writhed his hands together. Hearing the Faire's gratitude startled the warlord a bit. He did not at all expect the rude Faire to thank him, let alone thank him for talking about His Majesty.

Again, Sir Ike held his tongue. He hesitated, but finally got the words out, "You're very welcome." Dark Pit's face flushed as he looked away from the warlord. Ike saw the Faire's reaction from the corner of his eye. It almost induced a smile from the serious man. He understood why King Marth suddenly began to do all those things for Dark Pit. However, he wasn't sure whether it was enough to persuade Dark Pit, especially how His Majesty originally took such pleasure torturing the Faire. One evil act took too many good deeds to replace. And yet...vice versa. One good act took too many evil deeds to replace.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Lady Palutena! Lady Palutena!" Pit sprinted into his lady's office. He comically skidded into a stop before dropping on his knees. He bowed his head, eyes closed to the red, geometric carpet beneath him. The green-haired Faire looked up from her desk to see the captain of her army before her. She smiled softly at him.

"What's with all the excitement, Pit? Did you turn somebody into a ring again?" she teased. The angel Faire started in horror.

"Oh no, Lady Palutena! I learned my lesson! I didn't turn anybody into a ring! Honest!"

Lady Palutena chuckled at the captain's flustering. She always enjoyed goading him. Not only did it strengthen their bond, it allowed them to have a little fun in a while, for her at least. Despite the hard times they found themselves in, it was important to Lady Palutena that her people kept smiling. A smile led to good morale, and good morale led to better results. "I'm joking, Pit. You know I do that."

"Well…yeah, I know-wait! That's not the point!" Pit waved his hands in front of him to erase their latest topic. "He's here!"

"Oh?" Lady Palutena stood from her desk. Her teasing eyes quickly became serious. Her voice lost its good-natured tone, "Show him in." Pit inclined his head quickly before rushing outside again. Her Majesty swept some papers away for the necessary documents. The light streaming from her large windows sufficed to enlighten her office, blocking the need to light lamps. Lady Palutena scanned her clean room swiftly before nodding consent. It wasn't exactly King Marth's palace, but it was home.

The opening door revealed a young man and two of his bodyguards. They stepped into the room lightly, keeping their focus on the Faire leader. After ten feet away, his bodyguards stopped. Only he continued to walk forward. He stopped at the edge of Lady Palutena's desk and gazed into the lady's eyes for a moment before bowing. "Lady Palutena, thank you for seeing me today."

"I should be thanking you, Roy, for risking the time to see me," the Faire clapped her hands. A small monkey with a red hat scurried into the room with a chair. He placed it next to Roy and left as quickly as he came. Lady Palutena gestured for the advisor to sit down and he obeyed. She leaned forward, her hands linked for her chin to rest on. "I understand your king had just taken more of our lands."

At the mention of Ganondorf's latest success, Roy squirmed in his chair. He made an apologetic gesture, "I'm sorry, Lady Palutena. He had demanded that Ganondorf try again, with Ike's help."

"Sir Ike…of course," the Faire muttered. She looked right into Roy's eyes. "I suppose that means you haven't recruited Ike?"

"Unfortunately, no," the redhead replied. "Rather, I fear he would point his sword at us." At the mention of his muscular friend, Roy cringed inwardly. He didn't enjoy keeping this meeting a secret from Ike. He did leave the castle to deal with the riots but also secretly made his way to Faire territory. Roy wanted to ask his friend to join him. Ike was truly an asset to the side he fought for. However, the warlord had sworn deep loyalty to King Marth. Roy wasn't sure how to persuade the bluenette to rebel against his own king and old friend. Even now, the redhead felt some regret in plotting behind King Marth's back. They had all been friends since they were born. They practiced swordsmanship, learned skills, and explored lands together. The three swordsmen have been through a lot, supporting one another.

Roy shook his head to clear his memories. That was in the past. This was the present. And the present demanded that King Marth be overthrown. The people suffered too much, and it seemed that Roy was the only one who cared about the common good. He had to do this, for the sake of his country.

"Even if I don't recruit Ike, there are still plenty others willing to fight for us."

Lady Palutena's expression softened, "If only Sir Link was still alive…"

The redhead looked away uncomfortably. Sir Link would have been a great advantage to them with his endless courage and strength. Roy felt sorry for the Faires as Link's execution bore a tragic and heavy loss. When he had brought them the news, Link's old friend, Zelda, silently walked away. He heard she was doing better but couldn't gauge her state for himself. Pit told him that she worked tirelessly to ensure that their sedition would be a success, going as far as training multiple combat techniques despite her forte of magic. "I'm sorry…" he muttered.

Lady Palutena waved his apology away. "It wasn't your fault. Rather, blame Link for his insane integrity. I know he wouldn't hesitate as he was at home with both sides, but I understand how hard this must be for you, Roy, turning to the enemy to help your people. Marth will have your head for this."

"If it helps my people, so be it," Roy muttered. "Besides, I do not see you as enemies. We shall be allies in the near future should our plan work."

"Our plan will work. You must have confidence in yourself. Now let's get down to business." The two leaders began to discuss about their future attacks. Lady Palutena informed Roy that she managed to recruit some AlBaests' help in return for their lands back. Roy quickly calculated their numbers. Despite the combined strength of the Faires and AlBaests, King Marth still had more soldiers at his disposal. Someway, somehow, the advisor needed to convince his own people to revolt against King Marth. Perhaps if they knew that they had the backings of Lady Palutena of the Faires, they would gain strength and courage to fight the king. Roy could only hope. Most of the people feared King Marth to the point that if they ever met face-to-face with him, they promised to commit suicide to ensure that the devil did not turn his eyes on them again. The king's fearful reputation was a great obstacle they would have to jump.

The negotiations continued for another hour before Lady Palutena dismissed Roy. "Rest today before returning to your home, Roy. I'm sure the journey was difficult."

The redhead rose from his chair. He bowed to the Faire, "I am truly grateful to you, Lady Palutena. My plan would have failed if you didn't support us."

"My main concern is the wellbeing of my people. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Likewise, Your Majesty," Roy turned and walk away. His bodyguards followed him out the door. Once clear of the Faire's office, Roy breathed a sigh of relief. Things seemed to be going well so far. If he could keep it up, then King Marth would be usurped in no time. However the thought of it stabbed his heart. His past memories peppered him with guilty pains. He shook his head to drive away those feelings again. There was no need to feel guilty. He was doing this for his people, he reminded himself. As he had agreed with Lady Palutena, his concern was their wellbeing. Nothing more, nothing less. Roy strolled purposefully down the hall. Though Lady Palutena's castle was more modest than King Marth's, it still was truly a sight to see. Colors danced on the floor and walls as the sun rose and fell. The sweet scent of plants floated around, reflecting a peaceful forest. Although servants hurried to finish their jobs, they also took the time to greet their fellow colleagues. Roy took a deep breath of the serenity. If their plan worked…then his people could possibly be like Lady Palutena's, happy.

"Oh, you're done already, Roy?" Pit swung his legs childishly when he saw the Human exit the building. Roy looked at the Faire sitting on a stone eagle's back. He nodded curtly in reply.

"Yes. I'm going to rest a bit before leaving." Roy stepped two paces before a thought occurred to him. Ever since he met Dark Pit, the Faire had occupied his mind. Not on the same degree as King Marth, but close enough for Roy to be bothered. He turned back to the Faire. Now that he looked closely, Roy was reminded the uncanny similarities between the two. He had to know. "Pit…do you…have a brother?"

Pit's face fell almost immediately. "Did," he said quietly. "I did have a brother. He was kidnapped when I was younger. The others told me that he couldn't possibly be alive considering who took him."

Despite knowing the answer, Roy couldn't resist asking, "Who?"

"King Marth," Pit spat the name like it was poison. "That wretched bastard took my brother! Dark Pit was just trying to defend our village! And that fucktard…I can't believe that he would just take Dark Pit right in front of us! I'll never forgive him!" The Faire gripped his arms tightly. His nails dug into his skin, almost drawing blood, "I won't ever forgive that fucktard…not after everything he's done…I'll make sure that I see him dead before me! For Dark Pit's sake…" Pit's shoulders slumped, fatigue washing away his anger. His breathing slowed down to calm him. He reminded himself that Lady Palutena told him to not lose himself to his thirst for vengeance. Pit swallowed as he remembered the tragic event that led to his brother's capture. "I should have told him to stay put. I never should have let him go. It was all my fault…" The Faire put his head in his hands.

Roy listened silently as the Faire vented his frustration. Although Roy stayed behind to look after their kingdom, he knew about King Marth's earlier invasions. The king himself led his men to fight against the AlBaests and Faires shortly after his mother died of unknown causes. It was around then, Roy realized, that King Marth began to change. Perhaps it was because he lost his mother that the king took a twisted path. But Roy wasn't too sure.

"I'm sorry," Pit rubbed his eyes when he realized that Roy patiently listened to his tantrum. "Here I am ranting about my dead brother when you should be resting." The Faire leaped from the statue and landed in front of his friend. "I'll lead you to your quarters." As he turned to walk forward, Roy spoke up:

"Does-did your brother look like you? With black hair and red eyes? Black wings?"

Pit stopped in mid-step. He looked over his shoulder at Roy in surprise. The redhead's expression gave no indication of what he was thinking. The Faire slowly turned towards his friend.

"How did you-?"

"Your brother's still alive, Pit. He's still alive, and he's in King Marth's castle."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Although the Faire should have been happy that his tormentor wasn't in the same building as him, Dark Pit couldn't help but feel a bit empty inside. After three days of King Marth's absence, the Faire finally asked Sir Ike when the king would return. The surprise obvious in his eyes, Ike replied that it was difficult to gauge, possibly in a few more days. Dark Pit had to be satisfied with that answer.

He noticed that the castle seemed to breathe a bit easier now that their king was gone. Servants whispered to each other as they passed through the halls yet clammed shut when a soldier or higher-rank passed by. Whenever Dark Pit walked, they would often subserviently glance at the Faire before gossiping in hushed tones once more, making Dark Pit suspect that he was the topic of their discussion. Almost everybody in the castle knew about Dark Pit's failed escape. They were also greatly surprised that the still-alive, and apparently well, Faire explored the castle unhindered, save for the watchdog. Though their curiosity burned as much as Dark Pit's, they wouldn't dare interact with him, recognizing their king's interest in him. Dark Pit, for his part, was glad they avoided him as he was satisfied with the few companions he had, Peach, Doctor Mario, and, to a certain extent, Sir Ike. Yet despite that, the Faire still felt a large void desiring to be filled. He wasn't sure what could satisfy that blank as he felt that only a specific presence could fit.

Dark Pit with Sir Ike became a common sight in the castle as they simply walked down the halls daily. They often visited the garden where the two relaxed in the offered serenity. Dark Pit enjoyed these moments the most as he felt like the garden was the closest liberty he could get here. Although the castle walls separated him from true freedom, the Faire appreciated the open air and tranquility of the garden. He always managed to find something to do there each day. It got to the point that Peach brought his meals outside where he dined near the fountain. Sir Ike, of course, continued to watch over the Faire as his king had ordered him.

However the warlord couldn't guard Dark Pit every minute. He still had his other duties to attend to and couldn't procrastinate any longer. When Dark Pit lazily splashed his hands in the fountain, careful not to get his gown wet, Sir Ike cleared his throat to get his attention. "I…need to do something, Dark Pit. Something important…so I would appreciate it if I could leave you for a moment without worrying that you would try to escape."

Dark Pit froze. Was Sir Ike really going to leave him alone for a while? This was his chance! If Sir Ike really was going to leave, Dark Pit could possibly climb the walls and get the hell out of here! He would finally be free from King Marth's grasp! He was about to lie his cooperation when something stopped him. Dark Pit thought back to how the warlord helped him in the past few days. Although he was extremely less intimate than King Marth, Sir Ike continually stayed by Dark Pit's side and watched him carefully. Sure, it may have been because he was ordered to do so. However, the warlord also went out his way to make sure that Dark Pit was as comfortable as he could be and carry him in whenever the Faire got too tired to walk. Then his mind reverted back to King Marth, an annoying habit he's picked up. If he escaped, what would King Marth think and do? Dark Pit instinctively knew that he would be trading Sir Ike's life for his freedom. It sickened his stomach at the thought of repaying the man who helped him with death. That set his decision.

The Faire nodded numbly. "I won't go anywhere. I promise…" He swayed his hands in the water, sending light ripples across the surface. Sir Ike hesitated. It was the answer he was hoping for, but now he wasn't sure whether it was a good idea to leave Dark Pit alone. He could imagine the Faire immediately bolting to escape the moment he closed the door behind him. However, there weren't many doors leading outside, and the walls seemed too high for the still-healing Faire to climb. Besides soldiers patrolled the archways with clear view of the garden. They would immediately sound the alarm if they saw the Faire act strangely.

Dark Pit looked at the warlord, confused as to why he hadn't left yet. Guessing the reason for his hesitation, the Faire waved a hand at him. "I said I promise, didn't I? I always keep my promises. Don't worry." He turned back to the fountain. Still, Sir Ike wavered. He inhaled deeply before making his decision. He strolled towards the door.

"I won't be long," he muttered, closing the door behind him. Dark Pit didn't respond. He continued to stare at the waters, alone with his thoughts. He sighed in exasperation. The Faire honestly didn't know what was going on with him. Before all this happened, he would have leapt for the chance to be free from King Marth's grasp. Now though he wasn't sure what to think. Dark Pit originally agreed to Sir Ike's request as he could imagine all the torture King Marth would subject his warlord to should something happen to the Faire. Now that he thought about it, Dark Pit wasn't sure whether that was the only reason for him doing so. He noticed that the strange void in his chest grew steadily over the past days. Truth to be told, he missed King Marth's gentle caresses and his warm embraces.

Wait! What the fuck was he thinking?! Dark Pit shook his head angrily to rid himself of those feelings. He shouldn't be feeling that at all! Why should he desire King Marth's touch?! It doesn't make any sense at all! The king was a devil who kidnapped the Faire from his village many years ago! Dark Pit should hate him! Not-!

Dark Pit looked to where a door opened. He started slightly before narrowing his eyes in loathing at the Faire sauntering through the garden. Dark Pit suspected that the newcomer had watched and waited until Sir Ike was gone before entering. He already realized that the hungry gaze from his first garden visit belonged to the person approaching him swiftly. Although he was glad he finally knew who it was, Dark Pit still felt a terrible shiver whenever he came. The negativity wasn't as high as King Marth's, but it was still enough to make him anxious. They met before in the hallways. However Sir Ike stood guard, causing the other to hide his desire. The same desire was more prominent now. The larger Faire smirked at Dark Pit as he strolled up to the fountain. Once close, he leaned towards the smaller Faire.

"Well, if it isn't little Dark Pit. Enjoying the garden?" Ganondorf reached out to caress the angel's cheeks. However Dark Pit quickly swatted away the hand, glaring at the Gerudo. Ganondorf felt a small flame of anger but suppressed it promptly. "That wasn't very nice, Dark Pit."

"Fuck off," the Faire snarled. Although he wanted to back away, Dark Pit knew that it wasn't an option. He had to stand his ground if he wanted to stand up against the Gerudo. Backing away was a clear sign of fear, and Dark Pit wanted nothing more than the oaf in front of him to be satisfied with his fear. "Whoever said I was nice?"

A cruel smirk on his dark face, Ganondorf chuckled at the Faire's statement, "How feisty of you. That's what I like…" His hand attempted once more to touch Dark Pit. Yet again, Dark Pit's own hand slapped the intruder's hand away. Ganondorf revealed more of his emotions this time; he growled at the Faire. Dark Pit still wouldn't back down. He only crossed his arms and raised a bored eyebrow. Despite his brave front, his heart pounded in fear at what the warlord might do to him. His years in his cell left him weaker than he used to be, so the Faire was uncertain whether he could endure what the larger Faire threw at him.

"I could care less of what you like, fucktard," Dark Pit spat.

"That's a pity…because you're everything I desire," Ganondorf shot his hand towards Dark Pit's wrist this time. Expecting another lying touch, the Faire yelped in surprise. He immediately tried to pull away from Ganondorf's iron grip, evidently futile in his state. Dark Pit couldn't stop the blood rushing to his face at the warlord's comment. Ganondorf chuckled at the angel's obvious distress. Now he was getting somewhere. He pulled Dark Pit closer, the latter instinctively leaning away in avoidance. "You must be a real prize in bed." Dark Pit flushed even harder. He tried to drive away the memories of King Marth fucking him, but that only served to heat his face even more as he remembered how pleasuring it was. Ganondorf laughed, enjoying the Faire's discomfort. "No wonder why you attracted His Majesty's attention. It must be lovely to hear your precious voice scream of your lust to the heavens."

"S-shut up!" Dark Pit turned his blushing face away and attempted futilely to pull away. Yet Ganondorf's grasp stayed strong. The angel Faire couldn't believe that the warlord would just say those appalling things. Granted, no ears eavesdropped, but it was still embarrassing for Dark Pit, especially when he held no love for the Gerudo. His arm tugged, and Dark Pit found himself spinning into Ganondorf's clutches. The stronger Faire held him in a tight embrace, his chuckling filling Dark Pit's consciousness. Repulsed by the gesture, Dark Pit tried to pull away again. And again, Ganondorf's arms held him tight.

"Now, now. Don't leave just yet. Why don't you be with me instead of His Majesty? I can assure you that I'll take the utmost care of you, little Dark Pit."

At Ganondorf's proposal, Dark Pit nearly gagged. There was no way in hell he would leave King Marth for this nincompoop-wait! What did he just think?! That wasn't right! Don't think that! The Faire squirmed, causing Ganondorf to frown. "Fuck off," Dark Pit muttered again. "I don't like you, and I don't like that bastard of a king."

"Hmph, what poor manners. Perhaps I should teach you respect…" Ganondorf's cold tone sent shivers down Dark Pit's spine. He knew that out of all King Marth's advisors, Ganondorf was the one to be most feared. His appearance matched his bloodlust, and his bloodlust was terrifying. The only thing that kept Dark Pit resisting was his stubbornness, a stubbornness that endured King Marth's torture even if only for a bit.

Suddenly, the crushing embrace was no more. Ganondorf stepped away from the angel Faire. Dark Pit looked at him, confused at the new development, until he heard a familiar voice in the garden.

"Ganondorf, what are you doing here?" Sir Ike stormed towards them. Hidden from his colleague, Ganondorf's lips formed a sneer of loathing. Dark Pit saw the sneer turn to one of indifference as the warlord turned around.

"Enjoying the garden in Dark Pit's company. That is all, Sir Ike," Ganondorf didn't even attempt to mask the disgust in his voice when he spat the warlord's name. The Human raised an eyebrow in disbelief. He looked to Dark Pit, but the Faire avoided his eyes. He sensed Dark Pit's uneasiness immediately.

"I believe Dark Pit has seen enough of the garden today," Sir Ike said firmly. He gestured to the angel Faire. "Shall I take you back to His Majesty's room?" Dark Pit hesitated for a moment before nodding. He moved from Ganondorf and walked towards the door. Sir Ike watched him for a moment then turned towards the other Faire. "Don't you dare lay another hand on him, Ganondorf. One more time, and I will make sure His Majesty hears of it," Sir Ike hissed. The warlord made sure the Faire understood the full impact of his threat before walking after Dark Pit, who waited patiently at the wooden door. Ganondorf only glared at Sir Ike's back in response. Oh, he knew the consequences all right. And he was willing to risk it if it could break King Marth. The Faire turned sharply and left the garden whence he came.

The duo walked silently down the halls. Sir Ike made sure to keep a close eye on the Faire for any distressed signs. However, Dark Pit kept his emotions in, making him difficult to read. The warlord didn't like it. When he had returned quietly, he witnessed Ganondorf embracing the smaller Faire. At that point, Sir Ike rushed towards them, wondering what the fuck was going on. It was clear to the warlord that Dark Pit wanted nothing to do with the larger Faire. Still, his curiosity burned at what the two were talking about. If what he suspected of King Marth was true, then he couldn't let this garden incident slide. When they reached King Marth's chambers, Sir Ike stopped Dark Pit from entering. The Faire gave the Human a look.

"What happened with you and Ganondorf?" Ike asked. Something flashed in the Faire's eyes before disappearing. Dark Pit turned away to hide the creeping blush in his cheeks.

"Nothing."

Ike's eyes narrowed at Dark Pit's evasion. He was getting tired of Dark Pit's obstinacy. The Faire would cooperate occasionally, but he still holed up whenever things got too personal or dealt with King Marth. The warlord grabbed Dark Pit's arms, earning a wince of pain.

"What did he do?" he asked through gritted teeth. Dark Pit still avoided his gaze. Sir Ike shook him, "What did he do?!"

"Nothing!" Dark Pit spat. "He did nothing, all right?! Why do you care so much?! Shouldn't you just be watching me like the loyal dog you are?! Why does it matter to you?!" The Faire glared at Sir Ike. The two stood silently, the tension clear around them. Both glared at each other, refusing to move from his position. It was only when they heard somebody cough that they broke their impasse. Sir Ike's eyes widened at the sight of the newcomer, immediately releasing Dark Pit's arms. He inclined his head at the emotionless, purple AlBaest before him. Dark Pit scooted towards King Marth's doors. He could feel the tension shift, from anger to fear at the mere arrival of the advisor.

"M-Mewtwo. I didn't expect you to be here," Sir Ike muttered. The advisor simply stared at the warlord.

 _Indeed not, Sir Ike. Perhaps this is a bad time._

"Not at all, Mewtwo. I…would just appreciate it though if you don't breathe a word to His Majesty."

 _I am a simple guide, not a jealous advisor._ Mewtwo looked at Dark Pit with his unwavering eyes. _I had only hoped to see the calm before the storm. Now that I see it, I am ensured that Fate is on its course._

"What do you mean by that?" the warlord's brow furrowed in thought. An expression finally showed itself on the AlBaest's face, a small smile. Although Dark Pit didn't feel the same terror from this smile as King Marth's smile, Mewtwo's was still fearful in its own way. It held many mysteries, as if it knew the future's holdings.

 _A crimson pool shall betray the azure sky. The ruby rose doth prick the sapphire prye. The red eyes blind the blues that bind. The blues congeal the reds' repeal._ Mewtwo floated away from the two. They stared after the purple AlBaest, his words ringing in their heads. In all honesty, Dark Pit had no idea what the cuckoo AlBaest was talking about. What was with the red and blues he blabbed about? What did that have to do with anything? Dark Pit looked at Sir Ike, the confusion still in his eyes.

"…That was unexpected…" he said.

To his surprise, Sir Ike shook his head. "No…Mewtwo has always talked in cryptic messages. Almost nobody can understand, save for His Majesty. And whenever Mewtwo talks, it usually means that something is up."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't." Sir Ike sensed Dark Pit's subtle disappointment. He mirrored it with a rueful sigh. The warlord looked at the Faire. He knew how the angel was burning with curiosity at Mewtwo's message. He smiled sadly as he ruffled the Faire's hair, earning a slight protest. "Don't dwell on it. It probably did not involve you at all." Sir Ike opened the door to His Majesty's chambers, gesturing for the Faire to enter. Dark Pit hesitated. Even though his "friend" said that Mewtwo's words didn't involve him, deep inside, he couldn't help but feel that the advisor addressed that enigmatic message to him. After all, who else here had red eyes like him? He took one last look down the hall, but Mewtwo already disappeared. Ike gently pushed Dark Pit into the room, the Faire obeying after another moment's hesitation.

All the events today suddenly crashed on Dark Pit's shoulders, exhausting him. He ambled to the bed and collapsed on it. He closed his eyes, taking in the scent of King Marth's bed. It reminded him how the king gently stroked his cheeks at unexpected times and hugged him to drive away his nightmares. Dark Pit clutched onto the sheets tightly, attempting futilely to find the same comfort only King Marth seemed to be capable of giving. He closed his eyes, and, after a moment's struggle, fell asleep thinking about the devil king.

Sir Ike quietly closed the door to leave the Faire alone.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

King Marth still hadn't return, even when Roy returned from his secret meeting with Lady Palutena four days later. He inhaled the air surrounding the capital deeply. Although the air from the opposing territory smelled better than here, Roy couldn't help but prefer the latter over the former. There was nothing like the scent of home, even if his home faced difficult times. The recent town riots were some of the worst he dealt with. The unruly townspeople almost threw him out when he revealed that he served King Marth. He barely convinced them that he was indeed against the king's decrees and was finding ways to help them. Still, they calmed down enough to not be considered a menace to the castle. Roy thanked them for their cooperation and promised a brighter future. Despite the obvious disbelief, Roy was pleased that a few had the rare tint of hope in their eyes. He fervently prayed to his gods that their coup would succeed.

Night fell long ago when he rode through the drawbridge and entered the castle. The advisor allowed a stable-hand to tend to his horse as he made his way inside. He passed a few servants, calling greetings to them. For the first time, they called back, albeit shyly. A little surprised, Roy's brain searched for the answer to such behavior. He concluded correctly that His Majesty was still absent for the time being. Nobody knew when he would return. It could be tonight, tomorrow, or even five days later. But for now the servants and soldiers could enjoy life for a moment longer. Roy strolled to King Marth's office to drop off a few documents concerning the riots and taxes. The advisor guessed that the king would possibly ignore those papers, leading him to tell the king himself of their conflicts. Still it didn't hurt to try.

His business done in the office, Roy made his way outside once again. He still had other documents to look over, making him view his day with less vigor than usual. He slowed down in the halls, his mind lost in thought. He almost didn't hear Sir Ike calling him. When he did, Roy turned to look. There was Sir Ike.

Without Dark Pit.

Roy breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. He didn't want to face the angel Faire after his discovery. When he told Pit that his brother was still alive, the Faire begged him relentlessly to let him return with Roy. As much as the advisor wanted to grant his friend that wish, he couldn't. Pit was well-known as the Captain of Lady Palutena's Guard. If King Marth saw Pit with Roy, their whole scheme would burst into flames. Possibly literally. And Roy simply couldn't allow that to happen. Seeing how it was Sir Ike's duty to watch the Faire and considering the late hours, Roy surmised that the Faire slept soundly by now. He waited until the warlord came over before inclining his head in greeting.

"Good evening, Sir Ike."

"Good to see you back, Roy," Sir Ike held out a hand, which his friend took and shook firmly. "How were the people?"

"Obviously unhappy," Roy muttered. A concerned look crossed Sir Ike's face. Before he could say anything, the redhead held up a hand, "It's all right. I managed to calm them down somehow…" Ike sighed in relief. He honestly hated to see King Marth's people suffer. A twinge of guilt stabbed his heart at the thought of his refusal to do anything against His Majesty's wishes. Ike feared the king's wrath, and, with the way Roy had been acting lately, he often feared his friend's death. Mostly, he feared that he would freeze in any attempt to save Roy. Sir Link's demise still corroded him from the inside without Ike realizing it since that horrid day. His deceased friend's hatred imprinted itself in Ike's mind, forcing him to remember his incompetence. His memories almost made him miss Roy's question:

"Why hasn't His Majesty returned yet? I would have thought he would have been back by now."

"His issues must be taking up more time than he thought," Sir Ike replied. He stared out of a window, the stars winking at him in the night sky. Although he knew that King Marth was more than capable enough to take care of himself, he couldn't stop worrying about his king. Their deep friendship forced him to think about the king's wellbeing everyday. "I'm sure he'll be back in no time."

"…Indeed." Sir Ike wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a note of resignation in Roy's tone. He looked at his friend, noting the dark bags under the redhead's eyes. Concern crossed his face.

"You seem tired, Roy."

"Hmm? Oh, nothing to worry about. I'm fine," the advisor replied wearily. Yet Sir Ike sensed that Roy's exhaustion was more than he let on. The riots must have been quite a handful if Roy wasn't able to get enough sleep.

"I'm sorry for keeping you. You just got back and here I am talking. You should go get some rest," Sir Ike smiled. Despite himself, Roy couldn't help but smile back.

"Thanks, I'll keep your request in mind." He turned to walk away. Ike watched his friend take a few steps before stopping. "…Ike?"

"What is it?"

"…nothing. Forget I said anything," Roy continued to walk. Sir Ike frowned as his friend turned a corner to reach his room. Ever since King Marth returned from his invasion of the AlBaests and Faires, Roy had always addressed Ike with his title. Very rarely did he simply say the warlord's name. It bothered Sir Ike a bit that Roy distanced himself like that. However, nothing he said or did could change it, and Sir Ike came to accept that. The warlord was certain that Roy was about to ask him something important yet changed his mind at the last moment.

A commotion outside caused him to look out the window. His eyes widened when he saw a large assembly of soldiers escort a carriage into the castle. Despite the lack of signs exposing the rider of the vessel, Sir Ike felt his heart freeze. A chill invaded the whole castle. Servants instinctively sped up their work; soldiers stood in attention. Sir Ike hurried down the halls, praying to his gods for protection.

…

Dark Pit lay in bed staring out the window. Despite how late it was, he couldn't find any sleep to grace him. He sighed to himself. Ever since King Marth was gone, he found it more difficult to sleep. Usually, he fell asleep in a heartbeat, especially when the king was embracing him. He felt his face flush at the thought. Dark Pit failed to find an answer to the strange feelings that trapped him for days. Although he loathed the king, he also wanted to feel the king's touch. It was extremely perplexing for him, and the Faire hoped to resolve it quickly before it got out of hand. Soft creaking tore him from his thoughts. He frowned at the strange noise. Who could still be up at this time of night? He propped himself up with his elbows, eyes slightly squinting at the bright lights beaming in. His heart leapt in slight hope that it might be King Marth returning from his business. The hope died when Dark Pit recognized the large outline of a certain Faire. Dark Pit clutched the sheets tightly, as if they would be able to protect him.

Ganondorf chuckled quietly as he cut the light behind him, having only the moon brighten the room. "Alone at last, Dark Pit…" he strolled towards the bed. The Faire's exhausted mind woke up in a panicked state. His heart pounded in his throat. Dark Pit waited until the advisor got close to dash from the opposite side of the bed. To his horror, Ganondorf dived after him. He should have known that the Gerudo would have expected such an obvious reaction from his prisoner. Dark Pit ran past Ganondorf's arms and headed straight for the door. Thank the gods that Ganondorf was still slower than Dark Pit, even when the smaller Faire was still recovering. Dark Pit reached the door with the advisor still far behind. He pulled with all his might to open his escape.

And realized in horror that Ganondorf had locked it beforehand. He shivered as he heard a low chuckle behind him. He desperately yanked the doors, pleading silently that through some miracle they would open for him. No such miracle came. Ganondorf's chuckling filled his consciousness as an iron hand gripped Dark Pit's shoulder like a bear trap. The angel Faire yelped in pain, hand instinctively moving to release himself. Ganondorf pulled him back towards the floor. The impact almost knocked the breath out of Dark Pit. He cringed slightly in pain when his wings slammed onto the floor, extended to both sides.

Ganondorf hovered over the Faire, holding Dark Pit's hands on either side of his head. A cruel smirk crossed his face as he stared into Dark Pit's defiant, yet petrified eyes. Without another word, Ganondorf crashed his lips on the smaller Faire's. Ignoring Dark Pit's muffled protests, the warlord let his tongue slip into the warm cavern. Dark Pit's eyelids drooped slowly to take in the kiss. However, when Ganondorf's tongue clashed with his, his rebellious flame flared, waking him up. Dark Pit bit the warlord's tongue. Ganondorf reared back, face contorted in pain. The angel Faire tasted satisfied metal on his tongue. He didn't celebrate his victory for long, however, as Ganondorf slapped him. Dark Pit gasped, the blood rushing to his cheeks.

"Bite me, will you?" Ganondorf growled angrily. His hand reached down and ripped the silk fabric from Dark Pit's gown. Before the angel Faire could blush at his exposed lower half, Ganondorf gagged him. He teared another scrap from the gown. Despite the angel Faire's struggles, the warlord tied Dark Pit's hands together above his head. He smirked at Dark Pit's helpless state. "I won't be able to hear your screams, but this will have to do."

Ganondorf ripped open the gown even more, revealing Dark Pit's sweaty body. He smirked at the porcelain skin before him as he slid his hands down to explore every curve, particularly staying on Dark Pit's brand. Dark Pit shivered at the touch. He turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut and pushing the tears from the corners. He gasped loudly when the larger Faire pinched his nipples. Already, his saliva soaked the gag. He panted heavily at the stimulation, his member stirring. The larger Faire chuckled at his reactions. With only a simple nipple-playing already exciting Dark Pit, no wonder why his lord enjoyed the angel Faire. Ganondorf bit one of Dark Pit's pink buds, earning a lusty gasp. The Gerudo's hand reached down and grabbed Dark Pit's leaking shaft. The angel Faire's moans urged Ganondorf to pump his cock. Dark Pit involuntarily bucked into the warlord's grasp for more stimulation. The room was almost too hot for him to bear, sweat running down his body.

The overwhelming sensations burned his numbing mind. With a drawn-out moan, Dark Pit came in Ganondorf's hand. He panted, his vision blurring. "Well, well, well. Aren't you lustful, Dark Pit? You seemed to enjoy that immensely" Ganondorf laughed evilly. Dark Pit glared at the warlord, tears streaming down his face. He hated how his body reacted to this oaf's touch, no matter how much his mind pleaded to stop. He felt absolutely disgusted, with himself and the Faire before him. Although the actions didn't differ from when King Marth performed them, the sensations were an entirely different story. Dark Pit didn't enjoy it one bit as he would have if King Marth was the one pleasuring him. His eyes widened at the realization that he desired the king. He didn't want anybody else doing these shameful acts to him. He craved King Marth's gentle touch and soft lips. He wanted the king to bring him into orgasm and fuck him, not this warlord or anybody.

Despite Dark Pit's spent member, Ganondorf wasn't done. He wished to claim the angel Faire as his own. And there was only one way to do so. His stroking hand reached further down to Dark Pit's tight hole. Using Dark Pit's cum as lubrication, the warlord began to push two of his fingers in and out. The angel Faire moaned loudly, hips bucking in pleasure. Though his body felt it, his mind screamed in protest. _Disgusting! Disgusting! Disgusting! Disgusting!_ No matter how many times he chanted that word, Dark Pit couldn't stop reacting to the pleasure.

Ganondorf smirked at the angel Faire's flushing face. He stretched Dark Pit's hole, adding in another finger. Dark Pit flinched at the new intrusion. He shuddered when he heard a slight squelching noise as Ganondorf slid his fingers against the warm walls. The Gerudo Faire soon deemed that Dark Pit was ready. He retracted his fingers. Dark Pit moaned pitifully when the intruders left, making him feel slightly empty. Yet now Ganondorf stretched him from the outside. Dark Pit's eyes widened when he realized that the warlord was about to fuck him senseless. Regaining a patch of strength, he struggled to get away. Ganondorf growled and slapped him, stopping him. The warlord chuckled when Dark Pit whimpered. "Looks like you belong to me now, Dark Pit," he began to unbutton his pants for the final act.

Dark Pit closed his eyes and looked away, doing his best to stay defiant. He didn't want to see the moment when the warlord would take him. He suddenly heard Ganondorf grunt. Not in pleasure. In pain. Dark Pit immediately knew something was wrong. He didn't want to open his eyes, but he did. They widened with shock at the sight before him. The sharp point of a blade peeked from the warlord's chest. It slowly spun ninety, ignoring Ganondorf's agonized gasps. In a blink of an eye, the sword slashed outwards, freeing itself from Ganondorf's chest. Blood drops rained on Dark Pit. The Gerudo fell to his uninjured side, clutching the fatal wound. But Dark Pit had no further eyes on him.

Instead, King Marth's basilisk glare held Dark Pit prisoner. The Faire's blood froze under the king's powerful gaze, his heart almost stopped beating. Never had Dark Pit seen King Marth so furious. Even his fury at Dark Pit's escape paled in comparison. Ganondorf's blood speckled the king's face, yet he made no move to wipe it away. The bright red starkly contrasted his cerulean appearance, displaying the world his beastly nature. No matter how much the Faire wanted to, Dark Pit simply couldn't look away. Nor could he move to cover himself up. He was the perfect prey for any predator. Suddenly, like a candle blown out, King Marth's gaze shifted towards his former advisor.

Ganondorf mirrored Dark Pit's petrified gaze. He opened his mouth, but King Marth's boot smashed into his chest, kicking him down and away from Dark Pit. Ganondorf could only cringe in pain from the attack. He fought through the fog of pain and attempted to speak, "Your Ma-."

Then blinding agony. Dark Pit flinched violently as King Marth stabbed Ganondorf's left eye. Blood splashed onto the blade, barely reaching King Marth's tunic. The Gerudo screamed loudly in response. He desperately wanted to claw at his painful, bloody eye but resisted the temptation. His numbing mind registered the painful throbbing as he felt the metallic liquid drip and pulse down his face. His right eye barely made out King Marth's deadpan expression. The king's mouth curled into a sneer as he yanked his sword from Ganondorf's eye. The image of the red-veined eyeball at the end of the sword ensnarled the unwilling Dark Pit, forcing him to face the horror.

Still calm with white hot anger, King Marth pierced Ganondorf's right eye. The Gerudo's screeches rose higher and higher in octaves, almost shattering the glass in the room. This time King Marth spun his sword, enjoying the squishing sounds of the gorged eyeball. Ganondorf was barely hanging on at this point, his back arching. The pain from his chest and eye wounds were almost too much for the Faire. He wished desperately that the king would execute him right there. But King Marth wasn't done.

The king leaned near the Faire's ears. "That…is for laying eyes…on my sweet, little Dark Pit…

"This…is for touching…my sweet, little Dark Pit…" in a flash, King Marth retracted his sword. With a flick of his wrist, he cleanly sliced off Ganondorf's hands. Despite his hoarse voice the warlord couldn't stop screaming in agony. Blood spurted from his flat wrists. His dark hands thumped to the floor, fingers twitching. Holey eyeballs slumped to their side, finally free from their destroyer.

"This…is for hearing…my sweet, little Dark Pit…" King Marth sliced through Ganondorf's ears. The sword, splashed with bright rosy tints, pierced clean through the Faire's head to the other side. The warlord screamed one final screech before falling silent. His arms fell to the side, twitching ever so slightly. The king slashed outward to cut through Ganondorf's skull and free his sword from the brain. The body shuddered as gore splatted on the floor, still oozing from the injury. Blood stained King Marth's tunic further, but he still had one more task.

"And this…is for tasting…my sweet, little Dark Pit…" King Marth raised the sword high above his head before stabbing the dead Faire's wide mouth. Red liquid fountained from the opening, staining the blade and spilling onto the floor. The king twisted his sword once to slice upwards, neatly splitting Ganondorf's head. He twirled his sword before bringing it to his side, exhaling deeply. Without sparing the bloody corpse another glare, King Marth turned to his next target. Dark Pit flinched under the intensity of the king's gaze. Wordless the king stepped towards the angel Faire, his ghastly sword still in hand. The thought of King Marth inflicting the same punishment on Dark Pit stole across his frozen mind. He opened his mouth to scream, call for help, anything. But King Marth immobilized his vocal cords as well. He could only stare as death stepped just a few inches away from him. The king raised his sword.

And threw it to the side. Dark Pit suddenly found himself embraced by that comforting presence. The unforeseen movement left him speechless. King Marth held the Faire's face to his chest, holding him almost to the point of suffocation. "How dare you…," Dark Pit felt him growl. "How dare you seduce another man! You are mine, sweet, little Dark Pit! Do you hear me? Mine! I won't let anyone else have you!" the king's voice broke at some points. "I have already branded you as my own! What more do I have to do to claim you as mine?!" The Faire's heart skipped a beat when he felt something wet his hair. Tears? From King Marth? Impossible! But what Dark Pit sensed and heard all pointed to that fact. He heard some hiccups from the king's chest, and an air of misery hung over the king.

Despite himself Dark Pit couldn't speak. The Faire felt something drip down his own cheeks. Then he realized that he was glad, so glad that the king saved him from the Gerudo Faire. He wished that his bonded hands were freed so he could return the embrace. He had to content himself with burying his face and hands in King Marth's tunic as he sobbed with joy and relief.

The two stayed in that position, even as Roy sprinted to the scene with several of his men. A passing servant had stumbled upon the carnage, shrieked with high fear, and fled for help. The advisor covered his mouth and nose from the putrid smell of flesh and blood, his soldiers mirroring the action. He reared back in horror at the dead body of Wolf outside his lord's chambers. The AlBaest, initially ordered by Ganondorf as a lookout, slumped against the opposite wall. His face a look of horror, the back of his head smashed open, painting the wall with its guts and blood. Two daggers pinned the AlBaest's arms on the wall, another dagger pinning his severed tail over his head. "What-?" a soldier began asking. Another whispered him to be quiet. Silence blanketed the halls. Roy stood, transfixed by the horrible sight for a moment. Summoning his willpower, he teared his eyes away from Wolf, only to be greeted with Ganondorf's spliced body. Metallic liquid poured from every wound on the dead Faire's body. Interestingly enough, Roy noticed no injuries from the stomach down. Still the injuries were enough to make him vomit. Fortunately, he held back, unlike some of his men. The advisor knew only one person who could be capable of a job such as this. Roy fully expected to see King Marth's bloody appearance, a soft smile with a deadly sword.

He did not expect to see the very suspect hugging Dark Pit. What was more surprising was that there weren't any struggling from the angel Faire, only the sounds of muffled sobbing. Roy couldn't make out the king's expression with his back towards him. However, he sensed something was wrong. A strained air of respite surrounded the pair. King Marth's shoulders trembled slightly, dropping their calm persona. He didn't look up as Roy stepped into the room. The tone of command was distinctive though:

"Roy…chop those two into pieces. Feed them to the dogs! Burn their bones, fling them into the moat, exile their families! I will have nothing more of those lowly shits! Wipe their very existence from this continent! Do you understand?!"

The advisor hesitated, not from rebellion but out of fear. Never had he heard more wrath in his lord's voice than today. It sent new shivers down his spine, almost paralyzing him. It reminded him exactly who he was dealing with. He wondered briefly whether he could find the courage to rebel against this formidable king. He finally found the strength to nod, "Yes, Your Majesty. If that is what you wish…" Roy shot rapid orders to his men. Disgust and horror clear on their faces, the soldiers dragged away the corpses. Roy watched them briefly before turning back to King Marth. The king still hadn't moved from his position. The advisor hesitated. He knew instinctively that King Marth wished to be left alone. However it didn't hurt to be sure. "Do…you need anything else, Your Majesty?"

"…Leave," King Marth muttered. He stroked Dark Pit's hair, still embracing the Faire tightly. Roy bowed to the king.

"Of course, Your Majesty…" the advisor closed the doors. Once shut, Roy sighed in relief. The king's long absence made the people, him included, too lax. His actions, his rage today reminded everyone that their real worries lie inside the castle walls, not outside. Although he disliked Ganondorf and Wolf, Roy believed that King Marth's punishment went too far. Perhaps a suspension of duty or exile would be fine. But death? It was Sir Link's case all over again.

But Sir Link committed treason, attempting to take the king's life. What did Ganondorf and Wolf do that warranted death? Roy thought back to what he saw in the room. Then it clicked. It had to do with Dark Pit. He remembered his amazement when he saw King Marth embracing the Faire. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his lord openly show such affections to anyone. Could it be…? Impossible! Roy never dreamed that his lord was capable of such emotions, such actions! King Marth was supposed to be a beastly king, not…this! Roy stared at the double doors. He simply couldn't believe it. He had to find answers to the bewildering riddle. Leaving behind the scene, Roy strode down the halls.

After his men left, King Marth was able to calm himself down considerably. He held onto Dark Pit, though not as tightly as before. He felt the Faire's tears through his tunic. He inhaled deeply, taking in the Faire's scent. The king had missed Dark Pit deeply while on his trip. The Faire wouldn't leave his mind. Every night he wanted to embrace the Faire, stroke his cheeks and kiss his lips. At that moment, his urges overpowered him. King Marth lifted Dark Pit up bridal-style, the Faire squeaking. With his hands still bound, Dark Pit could only clutch onto the king's tunic weakly. Quick strides brought them to the bed.

King Marth laid Dark Pit on the soft sheets. He untied the gag from Dark Pit's mouth. Before the Faire could speak, the king already leaned in to kiss him. Dark Pit eagerly opened his mouth to let the king's tongue explore. They exchanged tongues frantically before they had to break apart for breath.

"Ha…untie me…" Dark Pit held out his restricted hands. For the first time in a long time, King Marth obeyed someone else's orders. He fumbled with the cloth for a moment before it fell from Dark Pit's wrists. Finally free, his arms snaked around the king's neck, bringing him closer to the beautiful face. They kissed passionately again. King Marth's eyes gazed tenderly into Dark Pit's own eyes, the blues reflecting the reds. Although the kiss was what he hoped for, it wasn't enough for King Marth. He broke the kiss once more, this time to take off his pants. Dark Pit flushed when he saw the movement. However, he waited for the king to get ready. Precum leaked from his member once again in anticipation of what's to come. Although he had desperately wished for Ganondorf to do no such thing, he thought to himself how strange it was for him to want King Marth fuck him now.

Now stripped of his clothes, the king leaned towards the Faire. He splayed Dark Pit's legs for a closer look, chuckling lightly when the Faire flushed deeply. He wet his own fingers before poking at the tight hole. Feeling the flesh yield, King Marth slid his two fingers in. Dark Pit gasped at the intrusion. The king froze. His eyes stared at the Faire anxiously. When Dark Pit quieted down, King Marth continued. The hole tightened around King Marth's fingers. However Ganondorf did a great job stretching Dark Pit's hole, and it didn't take long for the king to retract his fingers. Dark Pit's breath quickened while King Marth lined his member with the hole. The Faire moaned as King Marth's length thrust into his hole. Body jolting in pleasure, he wrapped his legs around the king's waist to swallow more of his throbbing member.

King Marth exhaled. He missed the sensation of Dark Pit's warm walls squeezing him. To feel it again was bliss. The king gave a few experimental thrusts. Dark Pit moaned his approval. Sweat glistened from their bodies, staining the bed along with the precum flicking from Dark Pit's tip. King Marth originally set a slow pace for Dark Pit to adjust to the size comfortably. However he became impatient. He wanted more from Dark Pit, and he sped up his thrusting. The Faire cried his approval as he clawed at the king's back. King Marth grunted in appreciation. He began kissing everything Dark Pit offered: his mouth, cheeks, collarbone, neck, brand, any available piece of skin. He angled his length to search for that particular spot.

"Ah…Aaahhh! There! Ha, right there!" Dark Pit moaned shamelessly when King Marth found what he was looking for. The king smiled devilishly and angled himself to continually slam into Dark Pit's prostrate. Dark Pit's moan increased in volume as spasms of pleasure shook his whole body. Through the foggy haze of lust, he could feel the heat pooling at his abdomen. He was so close, so close! King Marth sensed it as well. He nipped Dark Pit's ear, earning a yelp of surprise.

"Say my name, Dark Pit. I want to hear you scream my name," King Marth commanded. When Dark Pit only moaned his pleasure, the king slowed down. The Faire whimpered at the pace. Registering the king's order, Dark Pit quickly complied.

"Marth…ah, Marth! Your cock feels so good! Ha! Aaahh!" upon hearing his name, Marth resumed his speed. He pounded the Faire's prostrate harder with each thrust. Dark Pit moaned appreciatively. He found something pleasing in saying the king's name. He urged Marth on with his pants and moans, yelling his name. He couldn't hold back anymore. "Marth! Please, Marth! M-Marth-ah, aaaahhh!" His hole tightened around Marth's shaft as cum splattered their stomachs. Dark Pit relaxed a bit, still panting from the ecstasy of their love-making. Marth thrusted thrice more before climaxing himself. He buried his face in Dark Pit's shoulder, moaning his bliss. The Faire shuddered at the wet sensation in his hole.

The skin-slapping and ragged breaths earlier melted into contented pants. The two continued to hold each other despite their sticky bodies. Marth lifted his head from Dark Pit's shoulders to gaze into the Faire's eyes. Perhaps it was because of the lusty fog, but Dark Pit wasn't sure what was in the king's eyes. It seemed so tender and warm, unlike the cold expression Marth always wore. The king smiled his soft smile. This time, Dark Pit didn't shudder in fear. Marth stroke the Faire's cheeks once before planting another kiss on Dark Pit's lips.

"Oh…my sweet, little Dark Pit…" Marth whispered against Dark Pit's mouth. "How I missed you…"

"…Marth…" Dark Pit's arms tightened around the king's body. Although surprised at the action, Marth eased into the Faire's hug. He closed his eyes, deepened the kiss, and returned Dark Pit's embrace.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

For the first time, Dark Pit woke before King Marth. Sunlight gently warmed the room. All was still besides the tweeting of the birds outside. The king's arms wrapped around the Faire protectively, the Faire's own arms sandwiched between their two bodies. Dark Pit lay transfixed by Marth's sleeping face. He was surprised at the serenity that graced the king. Lips parted slightly to breathe lightly, his azure bangs separated naturally in sleep. It made him seem more human than Dark Pit perceived him to be.

A sudden throbbing in his hips reminded him of what transpired last night, his face flushing red. He wasn't sure what to think at all now considering last night's incident. Dark Pit wanted to convince himself that he just got caught in the moment when he begged Marth to fuck him. However the little voice grew bold and outright yelled that that wasn't true at all. Dark Pit quieted that voice, but it repeated its irritating claims over and over. The Faire could do little to quell it. His eyes refocused on Marth's face. Looking at the soft lips, he felt a curious urge kiss the king. He leaned in but stopped just centimeters away, hesitating.

Beautiful blue orbs slowly opened. Dark Pit started at the sudden awakening of King Marth. Before the Faire could move, the king gave him a quick peck on the forehead. "Good morning, Dark Pit," Marth smiled. Dark Pit swallowed the lump in his throat as he let his head fall back on the pillow. His mind jumbled phrases, wondering frantically how to respond.

"M-morning…" he finally muttered. He felt his face heating as he continued to stare into Marth's eyes. The king's mouth twitched slightly in amusement. He chuckled lightly as he stroked Dark Pit's hair.

"Had a good sleep, my sweet, little Dark Pit?"

Dark Pit looked away, face still crimson. He nodded slightly. He wasn't sure why, but he felt embarrassed admitting that to the king. Before Marth returned, nightmares always plagued his dormant state. However last night blessed Dark Pit with serene sleep, Marth somehow dispelling the nightmares. Fate had a sick sense of humor, to say the least, how a few weeks before, King Marth chained Dark Pit to a wall in a filthy cell. Now he cuddled the angel Faire like a childhood teddy bear. Dark Pit didn't resist. Instead, he snuggled in Marth's warm arms, enjoying the scent he missed so much. Something about it just reassured him that everything would be okay. The smile was clear in the king's tone, "That's good. Did you miss me while I was away?"

The Faire was on the verge of nodding when he quickly stopped himself. No, that answer couldn't be right! What was he thinking? Even if he did miss Marth, he wasn't going to admit it to the king. Dark Pit stayed silent this time. Marth, expecting either a nod or yes, frowned slightly at the lack of answer. He leaned away to look at the quiet Faire. Ruby eyes wouldn't meet sapphire ones. The king lifted up Dark Pit's chin. Upon meeting his gaze, Dark Pit's face flushed deeper, and he quickly turned over. Marth suddenly found himself staring at messy, raven hair and wings. His mouth twitching, the king snuggled into the Faire's wings. Dark Pit gasped at the sudden warmth. He felt Marth rubbed his face into the feathers, noticing how he was carefully ignoring Dark Pit's past injuries. A small flame of contentment sparked inside of him.

"Ah…you did miss me."

Dark Pit shook his head furiously, "N-no, I didn't! Why the hell would I miss you?" He pulled away, but Marth's embrace tightened, preventing him from going. A flame of resentment flared, but the joyful spark triumphed over the weaker emotion. Dark Pit breathed a sigh of resignation as he realized that Marth wouldn't release him anytime soon.

"You shouldn't lie to me like that, Dark Pit…"

"I'm not lying," the Faire mumbled. Marth chuckled lightly at the immediate denial. He really did enjoy teasing Dark Pit like this. "Let me go…"

"Why?" the king nuzzled the angel's feathers.

Dark Pit blushed again. He wished Marth would just release him already. It was too embarrassing for him to tell the king the reason why. However, Marth was as stubborn as Dark Pit. He wouldn't let him go for any simple reason. As a king, if he demanded something, he got it. That was to be expected.

But Dark Pit was a rebel. He didn't care about Marth's position. If he didn't want to answer, then he didn't have to answer. The Faire squirmed from the king's embrace again. After a moment, Dark Pit was surprised to feel Marth's arms retract. When he reached the edge of the bed, he looked back in question. Marth leaned his head against his arm, watching the Faire. That was when Dark Pit realized that he was still wearing the ripped gown. Face blushing, he turned away and headed towards the bathroom on wobbly legs. The king couldn't help smiling at the Faire's clumsy steps. He fell to the floor many times from the pain. It would have been simpler for Dark Pit to crawl. But he wouldn't have any of it. He gritted his teeth through and finally reached the bathroom, slamming the door after him.

King Marth sat up in bed. He elegantly covered a yawn with his hand. The sleep after the sex did wonders for the king. Perhaps it was because he was finally able to hold his sweet, little Dark Pit after gods know how many days. He felt an urge to join the Faire in the bathroom. He was about to do so when a large, crimson stain caught his eye. A small frown touched his face at the memory of last night's prior events. It was truly unfortunate that the Gerudo's blood sullied his carpet and walls. His hatred for the dead Faire flared when he thought back to how he saw Ganondorf over his sweet, little Dark Pit when he entered the room. If the warlord was alive for a bit longer, King Marth would have made sure that he wouldn't be able to copulate with anyone else. He made a mental note to question Roy on the warlord's pieces.

Driving away those thoughts, Marth returned to Dark Pit. He resisted his former temptation, allowing the Faire to have some time alone. He had other matters to attend to first. King Marth left the bed to grab the light bathrobe hung over a chair. Wrapping it around him, he moved to the speaking tubes on the other side of his bed. Opening one, he requested Peach to come up to his room to clean, along with a new set of clothes for Dark Pit. A small "Yes, Your Majesty" answered back. Marth was about to find his own attire when a voice came from one of the tubes.

"Your Majesty?"

Unbeknownst to the speaker, the king's lips curled into a frown. He looked at the guilty tube. "What is it, Roy?"

"Pardon me," the tube replied. "But there are some things that required your attention, Your Majesty."

"Oh?" King Marth raised a mocking eyebrow. "And what's that?"

"There have been some Faire attacks on our country, Your Majesty."

"Hmph…have you gotten rid of the trash, Roy?"

"…Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good…" King Marth left the speaking tube. Silence blanketed the room. The king went to the window to gaze outside. Although the sun shone on him, it was more blinding than blessing. Marth ignored the sun's rays and examined the fields that the castle overlooked. It was only until he heard the bathroom door creaking open did he turn around.

A playful smile danced on his face when he saw the Faire. Dark Pit had hoped that the king left by the time he was finished. Hair and wings dripping with water, he blushed when he realized that Marth was staring with hungry eyes. He unconsciously wrapped the towel around his waist a little tighter.

"Stop staring," Dark Pit scowled. Marth only smiled softly. He loved how the water slid down Dark Pit's beautiful body. His eyes lingered on the proud emblem that marked the Faire as his own. He strolled over to the Faire. Dark Pit resisted the urge to back away from the advancing king. Soon Marth was only inches away from the Faire. He stroked Dark Pit's cheeks in his gentle, familiar way. He was pleased to see that the Faire didn't flinch from his touch.

"Why…if you needed to wash up, I would have gladly helped you," Marth teased. If it was possible, Dark Pit flushed an even deeper red. He looked away from the king's loving gaze.

"S-shut up! I didn't need any help!"

Marth chuckled at Dark Pit's obvious embarrassment. He gently pushed the Faire's face towards him and kissed him gently. Dark Pit's eyes half-closed from the touch. As smoothly as he came in, Marth broke the kiss. He smiled softly. Dark Pit stared at him with a puzzling expression. The king couldn't help but mirror the Faire's face. "What's the matter?"

"Why-?" Dark Pit was interrupted by the knocking of the maid. They both looked to the door, one with curiosity, the other with irritation.

"Come in," King Marth ordered. The door cautiously opened. The pink-clad maid peeked in fearfully. She lowered her eyes once she located her lord. She held out the clothes he sent for.

"The clothes for Dark Pit, Your Majesty," Peach explained. King Marth gestured indifferently to the bed.

"Leave it on the bed…wait outside until I call for you…"

The maid bowed. She hurried over to the bed, gently placing the gown on the sheets. She bowed once more before scurrying out the room to wait, closing the door lightly after her. Marth huffed a small breath of irritation. The maid just had to ruin his moment with Dark Pit. He was searching his mind for a suitable punishment when Dark Pit placed a hand his shoulder. Marth looked at the Faire.

He shook his head, "Don't punish her." The statement, though simple, stopped Marth in his tracks. For some reason, he felt inclined to listen to Dark Pit's request. The king sighed softly.

"All right."

Dark Pit started in shock. He was ready to argue for his point, not prepared for the immediate agreement of the king. It felt strange to have the king actually listen to him. He looked at Marth uncertainly, as if he was expecting for the king to break his promise at any moment. He didn't expect the king to pull him in for another embrace.

"But remember, Dark Pit. You are mine. Nobody else can have you. Understand?" Marth whispered in his ears. Dark Pit shuddered, feeling the king's hot breath against his shoulders. His heart pounded away rapidly, his face still a blushing red. Though hesitant at first, Dark Pit wrapped his own arms around the king.

"I don't belong to anybody, Marth."

Despite himself, Marth smiled softly. Truth to be told, though he desired Dark Pit to be his and submit only to him, he enjoyed the Faire's rebellious side from time to time. "I'll keep that in mind the next time you cry for me," the king whispered seductively. He felt satisfied when Dark Pit felt a little hotter than usual. Marth promptly released the embrace. He held Dark Pit for a moment, kissing him lightly on the forehead. Then he walked past the Faire into the bathroom. "I don't want you outside this room today, Dark Pit, especially after yesterday's incident." Dark Pit had no choice in that matter. He only nodded in reply to King Marth's cold tone.

…

As King Marth came upon his meeting room, the guards on either side quickly opened the double doors for their liege. The king walked briskly into the room, his expression as cold as before. His remaining three advisors straightened and squared their shoulders at his arrival. Two wooden chairs stood empty. King Marth ignored them all as he sat gracefully on his own chair. A quick gesture signaled for his advisors to sit down.

"Now…what was so important…that I must be informed of?" King Marth asked softly. A servant quickly moved to pour tea into each cup. Once his was filled, King Marth swirled it once before taking a sip. Sir Ike exchanged a quick glance with Roy. Truthfully, the warlord didn't expect much reaction from his liege with the events that just emerged. However, considering the king's mood yesterday, it was difficult to gauge how he would take the news. He coughed lightly, breaking the tense silence that followed King Marth's question.

"Your Majesty, the Faires have recently invaded and conquered our lands. They took back the lands we seized and more," Sir Ike placed a map on the wooden table. Unfurling it, he flattened out the creases to point at the town symbols outskirting their country. King Marth raised an eyebrow at that. The warlord continued, "We think that their plan of attack is to take the surrounding areas, slowly boxing us in until all that's left to conquer is the castle."

"Is that so?" King Marth inquired. The warlord nodded in response. The king rested his chin on his linked hands. His eyes observed the map before him, taking no notice of his advisors. Roy gave Sir Ike a curious look. It was unusual for King Marth to be so interested in these matters. He often waved it away to Sir Ike after the warlord informed him of the happenings. Now, it seemed as if the king debated on what to do next. "Roy." The redhead jumped upon hearing his name. He inclined his head in the king's direction.

"Your Majesty?"

"What are the damages of towns taken by the Faires?" King Marth questioned. Roy looked over his documents.

"Unfortunately, we have no information on that, Your Majesty."

"Is that so?" King Marth looked straight into Roy's eyes. The advisor froze, his heart skipping a beat. He wasn't sure why, but he felt at that very moment, his lord hypnotized him, petrifying him in the fashion of hunting snakes. It was almost as if the king examined Roy's very soul with his unwavering stare. Roy wanted to look away, say something, do anything. Yet King Marth's gaze locked him in place. It was only until the king looked away could Roy move and breathe again. He refocused his attention on the map. After a few more moments, King Marth spoke again, "Let them come to us."

Sir Ike blinked in confusion, "Your Majesty?"

King Marth looked at Sir Ike briefly before leaning back. "In our current state, we're not fit to fight them. We don't know their numbers, their plans, their ammunitions. Faires are fickle and cunning creatures. It is better if we wait for more information. Let them do as they please for now. An overconfident enemy only needs a simple slash to the knees to fall."

Roy felt his anger boiling over at King Marth's plan. Gritting his teeth, he attempted to calm himself by clenching and unclenching his fists. Some sixth sense warned him of somebody's scrutinizing. It couldn't be King Marth as he was still examining the map with Sir Ike. Roy looked over at Mewtwo. Although the AlBaest remained emotionless, Roy surmised that there was a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. He found himself wondering what purpose Mewtwo had here. In all their meetings, the purple AlBaest never spoke up nor did King Marth ever address him. He always sat quietly, observing all movements. It was as if he was waiting for something to erupt. Roy switched his attention back to more important matters.

"Your Majesty, if they continue like this, who knows what would happen to your towns? The people could very much be in danger!"

A soft smile tugged at the king's lips, "Your…deep concern for my people…amuses me so, Roy…"

"Your disregard for your own people disgusts me so," Roy retorted. King Marth's smile faded slightly. However it didn't go unnoticed by the advisors. Sir Ike felt his heart sinking. He sensed that King Marth might possibly execute Roy right there if he didn't do something to calm him. He couldn't face that situation again. Sir Ike quickly searched for a way out.

"Perhaps, Your Majesty, I should send out our spies?" the warlord suggested. "The Faires would expect some sort of counterattack. But if we-."

"I want the army to stand ready," King Marth interjected. "Send our spies. That is all." He stared at them all pointedly. The advisors bowed to their king. Roy was glad that his inclined position hid not only his seething anger, but his confusion as well. Once he ensured his control over his emotions, the redhead straightened. He turned and walked away, Sir Ike following afterwards. Mewtwo watched the two men leave before inclining his head towards King Marth.

 _I see you have taken care of the ruby rose._

"Do not remind me of that oaf," King Marth spat. Mewtwo hid a grin. He couldn't understand why the Humans were so afraid of this petite king. Like all Humans, he was quite simple to read and even easier to manipulate. Despite that, Mewtwo was still a bit confused about the situation with Dark Pit. He anticipated Fate to go one way, but Marth exceeded his expectations. Perhaps it had something to do with what Humans, Faires, and other AlBaests called a heart. As a servant of Fate, Mewtwo had no need for such trivial emotions, possibly explaining why he couldn't understand why Marth even spared Dark Pit. Driving those questions away, the AlBaest inclined his head slightly.

 _My apologies, Your Majesty. However, I do wish to inform of our little…spy._

"What news?"

 _He seemed very focused on…Roy…_

The slightest fury graced King Marth's face. "I thought so…I never should have trusted any of my advisors…what about Sir Ike?"

 _That is all I am obliged to tell, Marth._ Mewtwo smirked. _My guidance for this generation has been fulfilled._ The AlBaest stood up and stopped right behind King Marth's chair. _It truly is a pity how you must fall eventually…I have warned you about Dark Pit. You chose not to heed my warnings. Now pay the consequences._ Mewtwo's chuckling filled King Marth's consciousness. He sensed negative energy surging behind him. Then the AlBaest's presence disappeared from his castle. King Marth relaxed his clenched hands. He rubbed his face in exhaustion, the burden on his shoulder suddenly heavier. He recognized that once Mewtwo left, Fate had set its final stone. Nothing would change Fate's design now. Although King Marth knew this day would come, now…he wished it didn't have to come so soon. He whispered to himself the words that Mewtwo prophesized when he first arrived:

"A crimson pool shall betray the azure sky…The ruby rose doth prick the sapphire prye…The red eyes blind the blues that bind…The blues congeal the reds' repeal…" Marth sat in silence, repeating those cursed words in his mind. His mind numbing, he continued to repeat them until only one phrase drummed his head:

"The red eyes blind the blues that bind…"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Roy quietly strolled down the halls, his mind occupied with the recent attacks. His lord's lack of emotions from hearing the attacks unsettled the advisor. The king didn't seem at all concerned about the Faire army invading his lands. King Marth also seemed to suspect something from the redhead. Roy would have to watch his step. Despite that, every assault was going according to plan. Each successful attack brought them closer to the peace they sought. With any luck, Lady Palutena's army would storm King Marth's castle and overthrow the cruel monarch. The two strategists had already negotiated that when their rebellion succeeded, Roy would take over as the ruler and establish a friendly and profitable alliance with the Faires and AlBaests. Truth to be told, he didn't want to be king. Though exciting and luxurious, the taste of power vitiated the mind. He developed an unconscious phobia of falling into the same trap as his friend Marth had. However, Roy was ready to put his fears aside for the sake of his people.

So engaged with his thoughts, Roy failed to notice Sir Ike passing him. The warlord didn't. In fact, Sir Ike was searching for him. There was something he had to discuss, and it had to be soon if he wanted Roy alive. He reached out and grabbed the passing advisor's wrist, startling him. Roy relaxed when he saw who it was.

"Sir Ike, you almost gave me a heart attack!" he sighed, putting his hand to his chest to calm his heart. The warlord made a quick gesture of apology before his face turned stern.

"Roy, I'm going to have to ask you to stop being so reckless."

The redhead's relief turned to slight confusion. He had a good idea what Sir Ike led to but waited for him to speak first. "What do you mean?"

Sir Ike shook his head doggedly. Why couldn't Roy be daring this time around? They both knew exactly what he was talking about. However, Sir Ike knew he had to say it for Roy. "You've been forgetting your place lately, Roy. One day, His Majesty will lose his patience with you and order your execution for your lack of disrespect."

Roy's temper flared at Sir Ike's statements. He narrowed his eyes, "I have not forgotten my place, _Sir_ Ike! His Majesty has forgotten his!"

"Do not speak about His Majesty that way!" Sir Ike's voice was low, but the commanding tone was unmistakable. "You do not have that right."

"I have every right! I may have sworn loyalty to His Majesty, but by taking his innate oath when crowned, he had sworn loyalty to his people as well. If he abandons them in the middle of a declaration of war, then he abandons their loyalty. His people owe him loyalty no longer!"

"Roy, cease this at once!" Ike swept a hand to emphasize his point. He could see that Roy was determined to stay pig-headed at the cost of his life.

"No, you cease, Ike!" Roy jabbed an accusing finger at the warlord. "Every day, I see you submit to His Majesty obediently. Should he disapprove of something, you never try to defend it! You agree readily to him! Even when right is persecuted, you turn the other way! You refuse to help those in need and those defending what is right! You're just a puppet dancing to King Marth's strings!" A dangerous flame sparked in Sir Ike's eyes. Roy stepped back, realizing it was a mistake to show that unconscious sign of cowardice. He had never seen Sir Ike so angry before. His statement went too far. The warlord stepped forward and roughly grabbed Roy's collar, pulling their faces close. Fury burned brightly in each other's eyes as they glared.

Letting the silence stretch, Sir Ike finally spoke, "I…am doing my best to prevent His Majesty from skinning you! If you continue like this, he would see it as a sign of treason and execute you!"

Roy snorted disdainfully, "If you are doing your best, I'm amazed I'm still alive. Sir Link died so easily under your influence."

"Link wouldn't listen to me either!" Sir Ike revealed. "He refused to heed my warnings and he got himself killed!"

Surprise flashed in Roy's eyes before disappearing. He kept his steady gaze on the distressed warlord. "That just means you weren't trying hard enough," Roy muttered. Sir Ike flinched as if Roy struck him. His arms losing their tension, he released his grip from Roy's collar. They stood in silence in the halls, the air almost suffocating the servants around them. Roy licked his lips, searching his mind for something else to say. He appreciated Ike's concern for his wellbeing, but Roy's concern with the people forced him to view Ike's actions as selfish. He opened his mouth to speak.

"My lord," a voice spoke out. Both Sir Ike and Roy turned to see Captain Falcon with a squad of four men standing uncomfortably behind them. All the men had a nervous air about them. Roy felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"What is it, Falcon?" Sir Ike asked. The captain shuffled his feet awkwardly. Even before he spoke, Roy could sense that the end was coming.

"I am under orders to arrest my lord, Roy, on charges of high treason to the crown."

…

King Marth's magnificent throne room harbored the tense silence of many nobles and officials. Large enough to accommodate hundreds of people during a grand celebration, beautiful stained glass windows provided sunlight while stone columns supported the ceiling for space. At the end of the room, a simple yet beautifully carved oak throne seated a softly smiling King Marth. His eyes glanced over the people, setting some into anxious shuffles. The tension and fear in the room was exactly what he desired for the occasion.

The double doors opened slowly, grabbing everyone's attention. King Marth's smile twitched when he saw Captain Falcon leading his squad and Roy towards the throne. The advisor's emotionless manner contrasted the soldiers' apprehension greatly. They walked through the open pathway and stopped a few feet away from the base of the steps that lead to the throne. Before anyone could move, the door leading left slammed open. Everyone's eyes swerved to see the new arrival. King Marth raised an eyebrow when Sir Ike rushed to the throne.

"Your Majesty! Why are you charging Roy with treason? He has done nothing wrong!" Sir Ike argued. Roy's eyes widened in surprise at the warlord's daring move. He felt it ironic that Ike scolded him for speaking out of turn, only to do it himself a few moments later. King Marth turned to him.

"Have you forgotten…your place, Sir Ike?"

The warlord flinched. The familiar, paralyzing fear constricted him, blanking his mind. It crept around, extinguishing any rebellious flames. However, Sir Ike mentally willed himself to drive the fear away. He wasn't going to let another of his friends die. Not like this. He bowed his head, "I have not, Your Majesty. However, it is my place to advise you not to do this."

"Oh…? What courageous moves all my advisors are taking…" King Marth's eyes narrowed. The warlord showed just the faintest signs of a tremble. He kept his head bowed, fearful of what he might see when he lifted his head. "I shall be as…just…as possible then, Sir Ike. Perhaps then…you will see what I mean…" Sir Ike's head snapped up at that. He flinched slightly when he caught King Marth's soft smile. He opened his mouth to say more, but the hardening of the ice stopped him from doing so. King Marth faintly warned him: I won't let you off easy next time. Sir Ike lowered his gaze and stepped away, standing by. The king nodded and back to the five before him. He raised an eyebrow when only Roy refused to bow to him. King Marth waved a languid hand to Falcon. He inclined his head and stepped away from Roy with his men, melting into the crowd of nobles.

"Why do you not bow to your king, Roy?" King Marth asked softly. Roy flinched from his freezing gaze. He felt the urge to do as his king commanded. However he forced himself up. He knew that no amount of apology or scraping could save him now. He had to go through with his resolution. That simple thought lifted a heavy burden from his shoulders. He squared his shoulders, returning King Marth's gaze.

"I'm sorry, Marth, but I no longer see you as my king," he answered, just as quietly. A muted gasp fearfully rose. The people looked to each other anxiously. They watched the two men, curiosity burning at what the devil king would do next.

King Marth's eyes narrowed at Roy's bold exclamation. He felt his flame of anger erupt yet kept his face as emotionless as possible. "What an audacious statement from the traitor."

"You arrested me without explanation, Marth! You have no evidence to sustain your claim!" Roy declared. The king slowly stood up from his throne. The difference in height instinctively wormed fear in Roy's mind. King Marth held out a sheet of parchment. He tilted his head to the side, smiling.

"No evidence?" he asked. "Explain to me…what this is then…" Roy willed his eyes to read the paper, the distance between them making it a bit difficult. He felt his heart sink when he recognized the document.

"Where did you-," he stopped himself just in time. King Marth's smile twitched. He daintily held it with both hands and ripped it in half, letting the pieces float to the stone ground. Roy stared at the torn evidence before looking back at King Marth. The king delighted in the anger that was flaring in the redhead's eyes. He knew that the traitor just needed a little more push. He snapped his fingers, the sound clearly carrying in the room. From the side, a door opened. Two soldiers walked in with a third. The third's head hung low, his fur matted with blood. Roy watched, paralyzed, as King Marth's soldiers dragged the AlBaest up the stairs to the throne.

The king turned away from the traitor towards the AlBaest. Unsheathing his sword, King Marth used the tip of his sword to lift up the foxy AlBaest's head up. When Fox saw Roy, his eyes widened marginally. That was all King Marth needed. He pushed the sword forward, stabbing Fox right in the throat. The AlBaest could only make a choking sound before the life left his eyes. King Marth stepped away, pulling his sword from the corpse. The hiss of steel alerted him to bring his blade to his side. A ring of steel screeched in the room, following by perceptible gasps.

King Marth smiled softly as he glanced over at Roy's hateful eyes. Their swords locked together, their arms tensed to hold the other off.

"How dare you! How dare you kill him!" Roy shouted. King Marth chuckled. With astonishing strength, he shoved Roy away. The redhead stumbled back onto even ground. He held his sword loosely in front of him, ready to block an attack from the king. The nobles backed away from the two before them, despite how much space they already had. King Marth slowly walked down the steps, his sword pointed to the ground. Sir Ike moved forward with his own sword drawn. However, a hand from King Marth quickly stopped him. The warlord froze before backing away. Should he choose to intercept now, it would over for both of them. King Marth smiled at the traitor.

"Oh, but Roy…he was a spy for the AlBaest army. What else was I supposed to do to a spy?"

"Lock him up. You didn't need to kill him!" Roy spat. King Marth raised an eyebrow at his answer.

"You…would rather have your ally slowly tortured to death…than a swift stroke?"

Roy faltered, "N-no, I-."

"I knew your plans since the very beginning, Roy," King Marth's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I knew how you would sneak off to meetings with Palutena and the Meta Knight. I knew you've been planning to steal my throne ever since I appointed you to your position."

"T-That's not true!" Roy protested. "I never wanted your throne! I only want the people to be happy!"

"You…would betray your king to the enemy just for that?" King Marth reached the ground. He stood still, waiting for Roy's answer.

The redhead swallowed. He couldn't understand why he was able to easily lie to his king and plan the usurpation behind his back, but he couldn't admit it outright. He inhaled deeply, gathered his strength, and said, "Yes."

It was Sir Ike who shouted the warning. Roy barely managed to bring his sword up to block the swift overhead cut King Marth delivered. He pushed it out of the way and responded with his own attack. King Marth easily deflected his sword to the side. Roy felt the familiar fear slither its way into his mind. The bluenette's deflection was almost contemptuous. Roy sensed that King Marth was not at all trying, almost like he was playing with him. Though the resentful flame burst, Roy knew he was right. Although all three had trained with the sword together, Marth's techniques and strength surpassed Roy's and Ike's, respectively. His lean body didn't show it, making it all the more frightful to fight against him.

King Marth smiled softly at his former friend. "Oh…I seem to have a bad habit of taking traitorous advisors' lives…hopefully you won't be next, Sir Ike…" The warlord flinched at that. He understood the deeper meaning behind that statement but kept quiet. He could only watch in anguish at the next death scene of one of his closest friends. Whichever way the outcome, it would still be a lost to him.

The two swordsmen watched each other carefully, gauging the difference in strength and speed. Roy knew that escape was not an option. The moment he tried to run, King Marth would dash in with his snake-like speed and cut him off. The king seemed content to let Roy make the first move. The advisor was certain that the moment he broke his guard, King Marth would deal the final blow.

It was said that the greatest defense is a good offense. Roy followed that now. He swung a round-house stroke at King Marth. The king easily stepped back. His sword swung with Roy's, adding to its speed and flinging away from its intended target. Roy stepped forward to compensate the lack of balance. With his cat-like reflexes, he danced to the side to void King Marth's straight thrust. He responded quickly, attacking with backhands and overhead cuts that were drilled into him as a child. Against each attack, King Marth's flicked his wrist lightly, tightened it at the last second to absorb the blow. The clashing steels seemed to be a blur, even to the trained soldier. It was obvious that the two swordsmen were on another level.

His speed and strength demanded much of Roy's endurance. He could feel them draining his body. If they depleted so soon, King Marth would soon behead the redhead. He regretted how he poured so much energy into attacking, but his old friend conserved much of his only defending with small movements. He had to do something unexpected to get him. Roy swung his sword from the left and the right, wheeling around for momentum in the downward stroke. The onlookers tensed in surprise at King Marth's sudden retreat. Roy prepared for another downward stroke. As he expected, King Marth held up his sword. Halfway, Roy reversed his grip and thrusted forward. It would have been the end of the king had he not realized Roy's trick. He could only step to the side in response.

Roy felt the satisfying sensation of sword cutting flesh. He attempted another strike, but King Marth leaped away. His free hand clutched his right wound as he bent over, blood flowing. The king's glare almost petrified Roy completely. His body tensed at the demonic presence that flared in the room.

"You…" King Marth whispered. He straightened up, ignoring the stinging of the wound. Roy held his blade, ready for King Marth's retaliation. "I should have killed you when I had the chance!" the king snarled. Roy willed his eyes to open. If he had blinked in that moment, his head would have rolled across the room. King Marth strode forward with a lightning overhead cut. Roy blocked it with his sword, his heart in his mouth. He had a right to worry as the king actually twisted his wrist, thrusting Roy's sword to the side. King Marth began his assault, strokes coming from all angles. Roy brought his sword to desperately save himself, sometimes having to move out of the way when his sword hand was too slow.

The clashing of steel rose to a crescendo as the swords regained their speed. One blade steadily moved faster than its counterpart. It bit into Roy's clothes at some points, slicing the skin underneath. Roy had no time to worry about his injuries as King Marth sped up his barrage. As the traitor slowed down, more of the king's attacks found its mark. He attempted one more block, but King Marth's strength defeated him. The traitor's sword wrenched from his hand, spinning across the stone ground. Finding himself weaponless and defenseless, Roy could only stare into King Marth's eyes as the king's sword pointed to his chest. The two stood still with only the blade between them. Sweat shone on their brows, more so on Roy's than King Marth's. Although Roy's face was in agony, King Marth's face glowed with slight satisfaction and triumph.

A soft smile grace the king's face. "Any…last words before I behead you here, Roy?" he asked. Roy swallowed his heart. He could feel the tears prickling at the thought that he had failed the people he promised he would save. He blinked them away, his eyes narrowing in determination. If he was to die here, he would remain strong. King Marth's smile twitched at the hatred look in his traitor's eyes. "Good-bye…Roy," he brought his sword back for one mighty stroke.

And a blue-suited figure dropped from the ceiling in between the two swordsmen. The unexpected turn of events, for once, surprised King Marth. Before anyone could react, the mysterious stranger slammed a Deku Nut to the ground, temporarily blinding the eyes in the room. When the smoke cleared, both the spy and Roy were gone. After getting over his initial surprise, King Marth's eyes narrowed dangerously. His grip tightened around his sword's handle as his lips curled into a snarl. Admist the whispers of the nobles in the room, he turned around to Sir Ike.

"Ike! Find the trai-." King Marth gasped at the pain from his wound. He fell to one knee, using his sword for support. Worry overtaking him, the warlord hurried to his king's side. He could hear the king's weakened breathing and knew he had to get him to a safe place soon. He slung King Marth's arm over his shoulder to support him. Sir Ike looked out to the king's subjects.

"Search for the traitor," the word caught in his throat. "I'm bringing His Majesty to his room." Ignoring the anxious chatter of his peers, Sir Ike quickly moved to take King Marth to his room. Along the way, he called for a servant to send for Doctor Mario.

It was difficult for Sir Ike to carry King Marth to his chambers nor did it take very long. When he opened the door, a black movement startled him. He relaxed when it was only Dark Pit. The Faire looked from the window. He gasped at the injured form of the king. Without a second thought, he rushed to the warlord's side.

"What happened?" he demanded immediately. Sir Ike stayed silent as he brought King Marth to the bed. Dark Pit followed closely behind. He stood by the bed, looking on worriedly. "Marth? Marth? What happened?!" Dark Pit demanded again. The warlord had drew breath to correct the Faire's form of address. However he stopped when he saw the anxiety in Dark Pit's eyes.

"His Majesty…was attacked by Roy," Sir Ike finally answered. Dark Pit reared back in shock.

"By Roy? But…why?"

"He was holding a trial for Roy. His Majesty suspected him of treason."

Their conversation was quickly interrupted when Doctor Mario came bursting through the room. Sir Ike straightened up at the doctor's arrival. He hurried over to the bed. He scanned the wound, muttering to himself.

"Is he going to be all right?" the Faire asked frantically. Doctor Mario paused to nod to Dark Pit's question.

"Yes, he is, Dark Pit. I would appreciate it if both of you can leave me to my work."

"But…"

"Dark Pit, your anxiety for His Majesty might hinder his healing and the doctor's work. Let's go," Sir Ike gestured. Dark Pit shook his head furiously.

"I'm sorry, Ike. But I already promised Marth to stay in his room."

Slight irritation flared in the warlord. Why was it that nobody chose to listen to him these days? He swore that it seemed as if the whole world was out to forgo his warnings. He drew breath to answer, but Doctor Mario stopped him.

"If you're so determined to stay, Dark Pit, I'll let you stay. Just keep quiet and do what I say. Is that fine?"

"That's fine," Dark Pit muttered. He looked a question at Sir Ike. Despite himself, the warlord sighed. If the doctor allowed it, then he wouldn't go against it. Sir Ike nodded to the Faire. A flash of appreciation crossed Dark Pit's eyes before he looked back on King Marth's face. The warlord nodded to Doctor Mario, who nodded back. As he turned to leave the room, he found himself wondering about Dark Pit's actions. Just days ago, the angel Faire addressed King Marth profoundly and hated his guts. Now, he seemed so worried about him the past days seemed like a lie. He wondered if King Marth managed to touch Dark Pit's heart. Or was it the other way around? The warlord gently closed the door behind him, leaving the doctor and the Faire to attend to the king's wounds.

…

When Marth awoke, he felt something heavy on his side. Cloth pressed tightly against him, signaling a bandage. He cringed lightly when a small spurt of pain jolted him. He looked around to get his bearings. He recognized his room briefly before something more important caught his eye. Dark Pit kneeled next to his bed. His head rested on his hands against the covers as he slept peacefully. His heart leaping in his chest, Marth reached out to touch the Faire. However the movement strained his injury, causing him to grunt in pain. His noise woke the angel Faire. A flash of joy crossed Dark Pit's eyes before disappearing.

"How are you feeling?" he straightened up, yawning as he did so. Marth smiled softly. His hand managed to caress Dark Pit's cheeks gently.

"Much better, my sweet, little Dark Pit." The angel Faire blushed at that, yet he didn't want to move away from the king's loving touch. They sat in silence for a moment before Marth spoke again, "Were you worried about me?"

"N-no," Dark Pit denied, flushing even more. Marth blinked once before laughing slightly. Dark Pit leaned forward, "I wasn't! Why should I be worried about you?!" He clenched his fist, signaling that he just might punch the king. Marth continued to laugh. He attempted to get up but failed. Dark Pit's anger faded away at Marth's movement. He gently pushed the king back down. "Don't exert yourself, Marth. It may seem small, but it can reopen anytime." With anybody else, Marth would have refused the request. However, with Dark Pit, he obeyed. He lay back down, his eyes still locked on Dark Pit.

"How long was I out?"

"Not very long…" Dark Pit answered. Marth looked out the window. The moon and stars winked back at him, the night wind whistling by. He turned back to the Faire.

"I see…I woke you up then."

"Hmph, it didn't matter. I was barely asleep," Dark Pit muttered. Marth could only smile at that.

"If that's the case, you must tired, keeping vigil over me."

"I wasn't keeping vigil over you," the Faire denied.

"Is that so?" Marth asked. He grabbed Dark Pit's wrist and pulled him in. Despite his injured state, Marth still had the strength to overpower Dark Pit's resistance. The Faire fell forward onto the king. Their lips met in a gentle kiss. They held it for a moment before Dark Pit reared back.

"We can't. Doctor's orders," he said sternly. A darkened look passed over Marth's face. Dark Pit resisted the urge to laugh at the king's reaction. It was strange to see the king upset over the simple fact that they couldn't have sex right now. Truth to be told, he wanted it as badly as Marth. To compensate, Dark Pit climbed into bed. He snuggled close to Marth, feeling the king's hand hug him closer. He felt the familiar warm sensation wrap around him, protecting him. Dark Pit felt his face heating up. The strange feeling crept over him once again. This time, he didn't deny it. He couldn't resist one last gesture to the king. He leaned up and kissed Marth lightly on the cheek. The king looked at him in surprise, but the Faire avoided his gaze. Marth's surprise was replaced with a warm smile. He kissed back Dark Pit's forehead before tightening his embrace. The Faire didn't resist, and they soon fell asleep together.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

After Roy's escape, King Marth decreed that should anybody capture him alive they would be awarded with riches beyond their wildest dreams. He also made a priority of hunting down each and every traitor in his castle. Though the town below blissfully continued their strained peace, cries of mercy and bloody murder echoed in the castle walls with the devil king accurately tracking down spies for the Faire army. The spies grew fearful for their skin as King Marth wiped out nearly half of their forces. They relocated into the town to discuss plans for a retreat. They had enough information concerning King Marth's forces. They decided it was enough and quickly fled to the Faire army.

The towns were notified of the bounty on Roy's head. However, many refused to cooperate with King Marth. The word spread how Roy defiantly opposed the king in front of all his soldiers and nearly cut the devil right in half! Although Roy suffered from twenty wounds, he countered each of those injuries with two slashes to King Marth himself! It was said that the traitor actually spat in the king's eyes before he disappeared in a flash of lightning! The country gained strength from hearing somebody else openly clash the devil king. When the Faire army cut deeper into the country, numerous towns willingly surrender to them. Lady Palutena's troops slowly but surely boxed in King Marth's territories. There were only a few towns left under the devil king's flag.

It pained Sir Ike to see the ruin of his country. Yet, no matter how many times he brought the subject up to King Marth, his old friend would just wave it away. He refused to discuss anything about it, leaving Sir Ike no choice but to watch the Faires slowly conquer the lands of his fathers. Although he couldn't do anything to stop the Faires' advances, Sir Ike did continue to train his army. He knew that the time for the Faire army to storm their castle was close. He had to make sure that his men were ready to do their duty. His heart fell when he realized that most likely, Roy would at the head of the Faire army. Despite his friend's change of side, Sir Ike knew that deep down, he could never hurt his friend.

Roy thought along similar lines. He quietly sat with the other soldiers around the fire. While they gloated on their successful campaign so far, Roy could only stare into the fire. Pit looked at him worriedly.

"Hey…Roy, are you all right?" he asked. The Faire's voice seemed to snap the Human's mind out of his thoughts. He looked up with a tired smile.

"Yeah…just thinking about the invasion…"

However, Pit sensed that something else was on Roy's mind and searched for ways to distract his friend. Another soldier in their company, Falco, slapped the Human on his back.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I'm sure we'll do fine!" Falco grinned at his comrades. "I was kind of surprised how so many towns just surrendered to us. It really made our job easier!"

"It just shows how evil the devil king really is," an orange armor-clad hunter muttered. "The Humans turn to Faires and AlBaests, species that they saw as inferior to them, for aid."

"You said it," Falco leaned back. "I'm glad our bosses are the Meta Knight and Lady Palutena." Roy stared at the fire, seemingly ignoring the discussion. He finally stood up and walked towards the trees. His comrades looked at him worriedly. Samus punched Falco, earning a wince of pain. He angrily looked a question but gazed away when she returned a glare. Pit began to stand up to follow his friend when the hunter stopped him. She shook her head.

"Let him have some time alone."

Roy strolled through the dark trees, his feet crunching fallen leaves. A slight breeze blew past him. He continued to walk farther away from the light of the army flames until only the moon illuminated the dirt road for him. Roy followed the path to an open lake. He stopped just at the edge, gazing out into the waters. He thought back to how King Marth held his trial. He shuddered when he remembered how close he was to Death's door. Had it not been for Sheik, he would have died.

"Thinking?" a calm voice asked. Roy looked behind him to see the very person he was thinking about. Sheik looked at him with sympathetic eyes. She strode forward, stopping besides him. Roy turned back to the lake.

"Yeah…thank you again, for saving me."

"We're comrades. There's no need to thank me," she replied, her voice slightly muffled by her scarf.

"Nevertheless, thank you," Roy said firmly. The spy shrugged. She appreciated how sincere he was in his gratitude. They stood in silence, watching the wind ripple through the waters.

"Do you…regret betraying King Marth?" Sheik finally broke the tranquility.

"I…a little bit," Roy admitted. "We've been friends since we were children. How can I not regret it? Besides he's never been like that before. To see him as he is now…I just don't understand how he changed so much."

"Did something happen to him to make him change?"

"Nothing that I know of."

"Listen, don't beat yourself over too much. Some deaths…we can't prevent," Sheik placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "It was a deceitful move. None of us would have suspected he would actually know our infiltration."

"I know, but I still can't help but feel that I might have been able to stop him somehow," Roy answered. The hand on his shoulder tightened reassuringly.

"Don't worry. We will stop him," Sheik's eyes crinkled, signaling a smile. Roy returned the smile. The spy patted his shoulder before turning to walk back to their camp. "Come on back when you're ready," she waved. Roy watched her until she disappeared into the shadowy forest. He sighed and turned towards the lake again. He inhaled deeply to take in the peaceful smell of nature. Tomorrow, the army would move out again to take the next town. Although he wasn't sure how he knew, Roy could feel the final battle nearing. They were so close to that sweet victory and liberation that the traitor could almost taste it. He thought back to his time with his old friends, feeling the guilty stabs to his heart once more. No matter how many times he convinced himself he did this for the good of his people, Roy could never stop the remorseful aches that plagued him.

…

Dark Pit wondered if it was his fault. Lately, Marth avoided many of his duties to spend time with the Faire. Although he secretly enjoyed it, Dark Pit couldn't help but feel that this shouldn't be happening. Whenever he tried to convince the king to do what he must, Marth would simply shrug it away. Those were the only times when the king refused to listen to Dark Pit. He would croon soothing words to the Faire and lead him around the castle. The duo of Dark Pit and Sir Ike were soon replaced with Dark Pit and King Marth in the servants' eyes. Although they didn't appreciate King Marth's new negligence, they found that he seemed to be more tolerant, especially with the black-winged Faire around.

The two have not spoken the three forbidden words. However their actions conveyed the meaning perfectly. During the day, they often visited the garden to enjoy the scenery it had to offer. During the night they made passionate love to each other. Marth jealously made sure that no other laid eyes on his sweet, little Dark Pit, including Sir Ike. The first time in a while that the warlord talked to the Faire, his lord actually glared a deep warning to him. Sir Ike immediately excused himself to train. Though puzzled at first, Dark Pit instinctively understood the cause for the warlord's sudden anxiety. He confronted Marth after they returned to his chambers.

"Marth, why did you do that?"

"Do what?" the king asked innocently as he sat on the bed. Dark Pit crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the king.

He gestured angrily, "Ike and I were just having a little chat. And suddenly, he excuses himself hurryingly to train. He isn't like that, and both of us know it. So why did you do that?"

Marth pouted. He surprisingly looked like a child getting scolded. He stood up and hugged the Faire fiercely, "You're mine, Dark Pit. I won't let anybody have you."

The Faire huffed, annoyed by the king's immature behavior. His wings flapped a bit in aggravation. However he returned the embrace, "Look, Marth, _nobody_ is going to have me. All right? You can be sure of that."

Despite Dark Pit's reassurances, King Marth still continued to protect him from preying eyes. He didn't want to risk that terrible incident ever again. Dark Pit noticed how with each passing day, Marth seemed to grow more affectionate. He often found different forms of entertainment the two could enjoy together. They often dined together and rarely left the other's side.

Dark Pit grew used to the comfortable life Marth offered. However, day by day, he wondered the reason for his capture and Marth's increasing fondness for him. Not only that, he perceived how paranoid the king was getting. He often searched the castle for any signs of attack, looking as if somebody was about to assassinate him. He would also stare outside the window for hours on end.

One day, the Faire finally had to ask. "Marth, why did you capture me in the first place?" Dark Pit rested his head on Marth's legs while the king stroked his hair. At times, they forgo leaving the room and simply enjoyed each other's company in the room. Marth cupped Dark Pit's face. He smiled at the Faire.

"That, you don't need to know."

Dark Pit pouted, "But I want to know. I _have_ to know." Hearing the determination in the Faire's voice, Marth sighed. He knew that if he didn't answer, Dark Pit would refuse to do whatever _he_ wanted.

"If you must know…it was because of Mewtwo."

Expecting a different answer, Dark Pit sat up in surprise, "Mewtwo? But why?"

Marth sighed again. "Mewtwo had prophesied that a Faire with red eyes will be my downfall. I had no wish for my country to fall to something like that."

Dark Pit raised an eyebrow, "Well, thanks…"

"I raised my army, and marched to every Faire village to find the so called 'red-eyes'."

"But there were other Faires who had red-eyes. How did you know to take me?"

"I just did," Marth answered simply. Dark Pit knew that he couldn't get any more answers about that from him. The Faire hugged his knees close to his chest, remembering the first time he laid eyes on the king. At that moment, he hated the Human with every fiber in his body. King Marth had marched into their village and mercilessly attacked it. Dark Pit couldn't stand to see his village being destroyed. He had taken up his bow and actually shot at the king. A skilled marksman, his arrow only scratched King Marth's shoulder as the king had dodged at the last second. Dark Pit stood his ground and glared down at the king from his position. The moment their eyes met, shivers ran down his spine. After a stunned silence, King Marth had quickly ordered his men to capture the Faire. Once he caught the angel Faire, his army retreated.

Dark Pit felt arms wrap around him. He leaned back into Marth's embrace. "Are you…sad that I captured you?" he whispered. The Faire shivered from the king's hot breath. He didn't met Marth's gaze and refused to answer. Marth didn't seem to mind; he wasn't sure whether he wanted that question to be answered. Both were contented to stay as they were. The comfortable stretched while they simply relaxed in each other's presence.

Mewtwo's warning suddenly came to mind. Marth shifted, earning a curious look from Dark Pit. He turned back when the king seemed to relax. Marth thought about Mewtwo's prophesy. After everything that's happened, he knew that Fate would soon play its hand. Unfamiliar sorrow filled his heart at the thought. Before Dark Pit, he fully intended to follow Fate's command. Now, however, he wished that Fate didn't have to be. Coming to a decision, he whispered quietly, "My mother died a few months after I was crowned king."

Dark Pit looked at Marth sharply. He wasn't expecting this at all. He saw a faraway look in Marth's eyes, as if replaying a scene in his mind. The king continued, "One of my father's oldest advisors died around the same time. Nobody exactly knew what happened…because I never revealed the truth.

"I was crowned at age thirteen. Many people deemed that I was still learning, so they trusted a few of my father's advisors to guide me. I knew that they would never accept me as their new ruler, but I foolishly thought that I could change their mind. Only my mother encouraged me to try my hardest. I could still remember the sound of her voice…

"Then it happened. I was walking through the west wing when I heard some strange noises. It came from one of the advisor's rooms. I realized that the door was open. Although something told me that I shouldn't do it, I still opened the door. I saw the advisor bending over my mother, his hands at her throat. At the creaking of the door, he looked up in surprise. I could see the fury in his eyes at his discovery. However, he soon paled when I drew my sword," Marth tightened his embrace around Dark Pit. The Faire's heart leapt when he felt something wet in his hair, yet he didn't turn around to look. The king inhaled sharply, "I killed that bastard. His voice was so annoying to me, I just had to stab him more than once, even after he died." Dark Pit shivered at the familiar cold tone. Marth didn't seem to notice as he continued his story, "When I made sure he had a ticket to Hades. I hurried to my mother's side. I was too late…he already killed her…looking at her state, I knew he did more than kill her. Don't you see?" Marth buried his face into Dark Pit's feathers, "I can't let anyone have you. I simply can't. If I do…you'll turn out like Mother…"

Everything suddenly made sense to Dark Pit. Why he killed Ganondorf so brutally, why he drove Roy and Sir Ike away. It was because Marth was afraid, afraid that they would take Dark Pit away from him. The realization made his heart ache for the king. Although the simple trauma couldn't excuse the other horrendous actions Marth committed, somehow, Dark Pit couldn't bring himself to hate the king any further. He squirmed in Marth's embrace to turn around. He returned the king's hug, feeling the king's head fall on his shoulder. Somehow, Marth just seemed so pitiful now. Dark Pit wondered briefly that if the advisor didn't rape and kill Marth's mother, would Marth have turned out differently? Dark Pit was surprised to find that he wished it wouldn't have gone that way. If it did, he wouldn't be sure if he would have met the devil king. That was something he couldn't fathom.

He felt the sudden desire to take Marth's mind off of his past. Dark Pit leaned back, prompting Marth to move. The Faire then moved forward and kissed the king on his lips. They held that position until the need for breath. His plan seemed to work as Marth lovingly stroked Dark Pit's cheeks.

"You are mine, my sweet, little Dark Pit…I won't let anyone else have you…"

"I told you before, Marth. Nobody else is going to have me…" Dark Pit kissed him again. "I promise you that."

Marth smiled softly to him. The cold traces of his former smile were gone. Only warmth greeted Dark Pit with this smile. He hugged the Faire again, "I'll be holding you to that promise then…"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The silence before a battle was more often more nerve-wrecking than the combat itself. The rebellious army readied themselves for the final throw of the dice. If they failed now, with so much advantages in their favor, they would never overthrow the devil king. They sharpened their weapons, prepared their gear, and relayed the plan. For King Marth's army, continued their training under Sir Ike's watchful eyes. Every day they patrolled the battlements, searching for upcoming signs of the Faire army. Though trained soldiers, they didn't have the innate sense of the final battle. That feeling seemed to be privy to only the three childhood friends. At least one of them was going to die today.

The Faire army finally made their move in the evening. Sir Ike himself was patrolling the archways when a gleam caught his eyes from the far distance. A few soldiers also squinted in the distance to examine the glazing light, calling warnings to their comrades below. Sir Ike held up a hand to quiet his men. He peered into the distance. Only the flicker of metal greeted him. Then, as if led by an unknown hand, a line of soldiers rose in the distance. Cries of alarm rang at the sudden sight of soldiers.

"Hold your positions!" Sir Ike ordered. He turned to Captain Falcon. "I'm going to inform His Majesty. Don't go charging towards them. Defend the castle." The captain nodded and saluted his understanding. Sir Ike returned the gesture before hurrying down the archways to King Marth's throne room. Soldiers hurried around him, frantically preparing themselves for the battle ahead. The warlord ignored them and the servants scurrying around. It didn't take him long to reach his destination. He opened the doors to see King Marth sitting in his throne with his eyes closed. The king's eyes immediately flew open at the sound.

"What is it, Sir Ike?" he asked softly. The warlord walked briskly to the base of the throne. He found himself wondering why his king sat here alone when he never left Dark Pit's side for long. Falling to one knee in a bow, he answered:

"The Faire army is here, Your Majesty."

"Is that so?" Sir Ike looked up. He started in surprise at the slight exhaustion on the king's face. King Marth stood up from his throne. "Let them come."

"Your Majesty?" the warlord widened his eyes in astonishment. "But…"

"It's too late now, Ike," King Marth said tiredly. "The final battle will soon close. They have won." Sir Ike felt a flame of anger flare in his chest. He stood up and took a step towards the king.

"You don't know that, Your Majesty! We can still hold them off! The fight isn't over until it's over! Fate can be extremely fickle in the tides of war!"

"Fate isn't as nearly as fickle this time, Ike. Destiny has set its last stone."

It took almost all of Sir Ike's discipline to resist punching his king. His neglect the past days were bad enough, but now, when his leadership was needed the most, King Marth refused. It infuriated the warlord how his king gave up without even trying. It almost made him want to rebel himself.

However his loyalty reasserted itself. He glared at his lord, something he wouldn't dare to do days earlier. "If you won't fight, I will," he said quietly. King Marth didn't respond, even when Sir Ike turned sharply and stormed away. He closed his eyes again. He didn't know how he knew, but around this time, the real assault would begin.

Sir Ike rushed out of the throne room to see servants fleeing and screaming. He heard the clash of weapons just outside, and his heart sank. Wind whooshed dangerously close, and Sir Ike knew that the Faire army had air power. Burning flames followed a mighty roar as a large, orange AlBaest swept through the area. He quickly moved to his original position, seeing how the line of soldiers had marched closer in his absence. Movement in the sky caught his eye, prompting him to look up. Sir Ike gritted his teeth at the airborne soldiers. A white-winged Faire led them on, pointing his golden bow at the castle. The warlord blinked in surprise when he saw how similar that white Faire was to Dark Pit.

"Centurions! Move out!" Pit yelled. His soldiers yelled their battle cries as they swooped and dived. Sir Ike's men retaliated with their own crossbows. Others simply cut away the arrows the Faires shot. Sir Ike realized that while the Faire attacked from the air, the soldiers below began crossing the moat to scale the walls. His soldiers were hard-pressed, and he wasn't sure how long they could hold them off.

"Keep watch of those Faires! Shoot them down! You men, stop their process! Do not let even a single AlBaest inside!" Sir Ike commanded. A few acknowledged his orders as others rushed to obey them. The warlord watched their process for a moment before moving to other archways. Even though it seemed as if the main assault was on that side, Sir Ike couldn't be too sure. The Faires might have planned something to deceive him and draw his attention away from the main attack.

As he checked their weapons and ammunition, a strange movement caught his eye. Sir Ike looked to it, his heart dropping. He grabbed a crossbow from a soldier and closed one eye. His sight locked onto two soldiers who tried to open the large gate of the castle entrance. He slowed his breathing and pulled the trigger. Although he trained little with the crossbow, Sir Ike managed to hit the forearm of one of the soldiers. He shrieked in pain and fell away, alerting his comrade that somebody knew of their betrayal. He looked up and saw Sir Ike reload another bolt for the crossbow. The traitor sped up his cutting of the ropes. He heard the hiss of the crossbow and felt a searing pain in his arm. He reeled away but smiled in triumph as the drawbridge fell rapidly to connect the moat to the town.

From his vantage point, Sir Ike saw that he was too late. He could hear the battle cries as soldiers from the Faire army rushed from the town to stream into the castle. So that was their plan! While most of the army distracted the defenders to the south wall, the main force hid in the town and waited until the bridge was down. Once that happened, the Faire army would assault the castle right at the entrance! In his heart, Sir Ike knew that Roy had planned this from the very beginning. Only he would be able to convince the townspeople to cooperate. He found many of soldiers rushing from the courtyard towards the south wall. "Stand your positions!" Sir Ike bellowed. The soldiers looked up at their commander in surprise. Then they heard the drumming of the enemy soldiers. Lead by an orange-armored hunter, the Faire army stormed the castle. Already, many soldiers got caught in the rage of the battle. Humans, Faires, and AlBaests fell from both sides. It was hard-pressed for the two armies, and they struggled against each other, trying to turn the tide to their favor.

Sir Ike knew that he wouldn't be able to get down in time the usual way. He leaped off the archway. After falling a few meters, he stabbed his sword into the stone wall to slow his descent. At the right moment, he kicked away, landing in the courtyard soundly. All around him, he heard steel ringing and clashing. A blue-armored Faire threw a metallic disk at him. Gripping Ragnell with both hands, he deflected the disk away. The Faire underestimated the warlord's speed, and Sir Ike neatly slashed at him. The Faire reared away, clutching the wound across his chest. Paying that Faire no more attention, Sir Ike continued to hack his way through, giving support to his men when needed. Even when slashed himself, he didn't seem to feel the pain. He looked through the fighting soldiers, searching. Their eyes met at the same time, prompting them to stop despite their battling comrades. Sir Ike gripped his sword tightly before throwing out an overhead cut.

Roy blocked it with his own blade. The heaviness known as Ragnell jarred his arms. The traitor gathered his strength and shoved the sword away. It barely caught the warlord off guard. Roy quickly retaliated with his own side cut. Sir Ike simply deflected it away, leaving Roy open to another of his strikes. Again, steel rang against steel. Yet the sparks that flew differed from the ones that flew in the earlier exchange.

Sir Ike narrowed his eyes when the white "Dark Pit" exhaled heavily, his arms trembling from the force. "Pit!" he heard Roy say in surprise.

"Go find King Marth! I got this!" Pit said in reply. Roy hesitated before nodding his consent. Sir Ike saw an apologetic look in his eyes before the traitor dashed into the clashing swords.

"No!" Sir Ike shoved the Faire away. He moved to chase after Roy. He took one step before a blue arrow shot his way. With his reflexes, he sidestepped it. The Human glared at Pit. "I don't want to fight you."

"Well, I do!" Pit yelled. He detached his bow, swiping the air with his twin blades. Sir Ike gritted his teeth in anger at the distraction. He didn't want any interruptions as any delay would give Roy the slip, resulting in his king's death. Knowing he had no choice, he readied his weapon. Pit made the first move. He dashed in, blades searching for flesh. Sir Ike held his sword out, catching both blades before they could reach him. Pit felt the warlord's immense strength through his weapons. Knowing that he would immediately lose in a contest of power, the Faire retreated to quickly strike the side. Sir Ike reacted with another timely block. He thought to himself bitterly that his two old friends would finally be able to settle their trial.

King Marth ignored the conflicting of weapons that resounded through his castle. He walked through the empty halls. He instinctively knew that most of his servants already fled the castle for their lives. The king didn't care. So long as Dark Pit was safe, he didn't care. At the mere thought of the Faire, Marth sped up his pace. If today was to be his last, then he wanted to end it with Dark Pit. He couldn't stand to not be with him. The king initially thought that if he didn't see Dark Pit, dying might be a little easier. That was certainly not the case. He had to see Dark Pit. He just had to.

As King Marth hurried through the halls, an enemy soldier saw him. Calling to his comrades, he raced to cut the devil king off. He raised his sword to cut.

And found that his hands had been chopped off. The pain registered and he screamed in agony. King Marth stared coldly at the soldier before kicking him down. He looked at the soldier's comrades, who returned a glare. King Marth smiled softly when he saw a hint of fear in their eyes. They saw first-handed how deadly the devil king was with the sword; their comrade was cut down in seconds. One, either foolish or brave, stepped forward with his sword and shield. King Marth's sword magically avoided the raised shield and bit into the Faire's chest. The soldier was dead before he hit the ground. Before the others could react, blood spurted from unknown wounds. They fell forward, barely registering their deaths. King Marth ignored the fallen bodies and continued forward, taking no notice of pained twitches when he stepped on their bodies. These soldiers have already wasted his time enough. He had to get to Dark Pit before anyone else did.

Marth finally reached his room. Alarmed that the door was opened, he dashed inside. A pale man resembling Marth's old servant turned around at the sound. He brought his sword up defensively, his other hand attempting to shield Dark Pit from the devil king.

"Get behind me, Dark Pit!" the soldier said.

"Wait!" Dark Pit cried, holding a hand out. However, his warning came too late. Marth's eyes narrowed at the sight of his love being with another man. His jealousy manifesting, Marth dashed forward, his sword starving for blood. The soldier flinched from the insane bloodlust that poured from the devil king's body. The king erupted into multiple sword strikes, each coming from different angles. The Faire soldier attempted to block all. Many found their marks, and as he held up his sword to block an overhead cut, Marth reversed the grip and thrusted forward. His sword dug into the man's chest, killing him instantly. The man's showed surprised as his eyes glazed over. The man coughed up blood, falling to his knees. He fell forward, the carpet now red and still soaking with his blood. Dark Pit covered his mouth in horror.

"M-Marth?!" Dark Pit's voice croaked out. Marth ignored his call, panting heavily. He glared at the corpse. Taking the leg, he yanked it upward and out the door. A dull splat could be heard as he closed the door. Before Dark Pit could say anything else, Marth rushed to his side on the bed. The Faire winced slightly in pain when the king clutched his shoulders tightly.

"What did he do to you?! Tell me!" Marth's eyes hysterically searched Dark Pit's body for any signs of injury. His hands searched for an unseen, open wound.

"Marth! Marth! Stop, Marth!" Dark Pit grabbed Marth's wrists and pulled it away from him. His touch seemed to calm the king down, his wild eyes returning to their loving blue. Dark Pit saw the blood stains on the king's clothes but ignored them. He only focused on Marth's haunted eyes and trembling lips. He waited until the king seemed to have calmed down considerably before replying, "He didn't do anything to me, Marth."

"Are you certain?"

"I'm sure," Dark Pit said. Marth breathed an audible sigh of relief. His body relaxing, he stroked Dark Pit's cheeks in his familiar way. He could feel the tears prickling behind his eyes.

"I thought I might have lost you…" Dark Pit heard the sadness in the king's voice. Not knowing what else to do, he hugged Marth. The king returned the embrace tightly. Although the sounds of weaponry rang in Dark Pit's ears, he knew better than to ask about it. After what that soldier told him, he knew exactly what was going on. What he didn't understand was why Marth left his side today of all days. They stayed like that, enjoying the security the other gave. Marth finally relinquished his embrace. He sighed deeply before standing up and moving over to the desk. He placed his hands on it, leaning against it. Dark Pit could tell he was thinking. Of what, he wasn't sure. After a moment of silence, Marth spoke, "That man…he was telling you to go with him, didn't he?"

"What?"

"He told you to escape, didn't he?" Marth asked.

"M-Marth, how did you-?"

"I guessed…" he said bitterly. "I knew it was bound to happen. Even when I drove away everyone, they still came back to get you…even when I already declared you as my own…I should have known that nothing would stop anyone from taking you away from me…" Although Dark Pit understood what the king was saying, somehow, he couldn't understand at the same time. He knew that there was a deeper meaning behind the king's words despite their simplicity. He saw Marth's shoulders trembling. However, Dark Pit couldn't see his eyes, preventing him from gauging the king's true mood.

"Marth?" No answer. The anxiety grew in Dark Pit. Never had Marth ever displayed these emotions in front of him. His heart urged him to call to the king again. He couldn't stand to see Marth like this.

"Marth?!" He thought to how close he was to losing Dark Pit again. The soldier's face turned to Ganondorf's. Ganondorf's face turned to that old advisor's. Marth clenched his fist tightly at the old memory. A small drop of sweat slid down his neck. He relived the despair that claimed his mother and almost claimed his sweet, little Dark Pit.

"Marth!" No, he couldn't risk it again. He didn't want to face that same despair again in death. He knew that once he accepted his fate, Dark Pit would be lost to him forever. He wouldn't be his anymore. His eyes twitched slightly, and something in Marth shattered.

"Marth!"

Marth continued to stare at the table he hung over. Suddenly, the king's head snapped up, startling the black angel. He looked over at the Faire. Dark Pit had never seen that crazy look in Marth's eyes before. King Marth's mouth parted into a lunatic smile as quick footsteps brought him over to the bed where Dark Pit lay. His normally gentle hands shot out with shocking speed and wrapped his fingers around the angel's neck. Dark Pit gasped, his eyes budging in surprise and fear. Too late he tried to wiggle his fingers underneath the king's only to fail miserably.

King Marth began to laugh. Not the gentle laugh of teasing Dark Pit. It was the laugh of the broken, of one who had given up. His mad, blue eyes relished the sight of choking his lover before him. "If I die here, I'll make sure nobody can have you, Dark Pit! You are mine, and mine alone! You _**will**_ accompany me to Hell! Join me, Dark Pit, where we rightfully belong! My sins are enough to drag both of us down! Be with me for all eternity!" his crazed laugh drowned the clash of weapons outside his chambers.

Dark Pit struggled with all his might. But a prisoner simply couldn't overpower a king. His eyes clouded as his breathing almost closed to a stop. He could barely see King Marth's face anymore. The thought of not seeing Marth brought tears to Dark Pit's eyes. He didn't want this. He didn't want to die. He didn't want Marth to die either! He just didn't! Even after all that torture, King Marth still managed…! The tears dripped down with each shake. Dark Pit suddenly found himself looking through a dark tunnel, the small circle of light reflecting Marth's image. The pain dulled and drummed his mind, driving him away. Lightheaded, the Faire felt an irresistible urge to close his eyes and sleep forever, forget about everything that happened and everything that he regretted.

The vice-like grip loosened around his neck. His mind reacted instinctively and Dark Pit gasped a lungful of air. His chest rising and falling hysterically, the angel tried to get a bearing of his surroundings. His eyes meet a shocking sight.

King Marth was no longer smiling and laughing eccentrically. Instead, his expression reflected something that Dark Pit never thought he would ever see: fear. A small stream of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Dark Pit could only stare in horror as Marth's distress was replaced with a sorrowful smile. The king reached to caress his lover's cheek with a trembling hand. The angel couldn't help but flinch in surprise, causing the sadness to fade the king's smile slightly.

"I'm…sorry...my sweet, little Dark Pit…I…love you," Marth leaned forward a bit more to kiss Dark Pit one last time. But his spirit failed him and the king fell, his head resting on the angel's lap. Dark Pit stared transfixed by the sword stabbed through Marth's back, straight to his heart. His eyes looked down to the fallen. He trembled as his hands went to cup his love's face. The warmth, the luxury, the safety that the angel was used to feeling was gone. Marth was gone. Dark Pit's vision blurred as he cried like a wounded animal. Great sobs racked his entire body. He leaned forward to touch his forehead to Marth's. His tears did nothing to bring him back as they dripped down the now-serene face. At the spur of the moment, Dark Pit eagerly pressed his lips against Marth's. They felt cold, as Marth had been before the ice broke between them. Dark Pit didn't want to let him go. Even though Marth was finally gone…Dark Pit couldn't leave him. He wanted to stay like this forever.

Roy lowered his trembling hands. King Marth's demented laughter resonating in his mind. He breathed a sigh of relief that he had made it just in time. When he arrived, he saw the king strangling Dark Pit. Fearing that he would be too late to run to the Faire's rescue, the traitor did the only thing he could think of, hurling his sword right at King Marth. The moment he saw the strength leave King Marth's arms, he knew it was over. He thanked the gods for his accurate aim. Had it not been that, another life would have been lost to the hands of the devil king. Their long struggle against him was finally over. And yet…it pained him to see Dark Pit's sorrow. He saw that even though King Marth had been as evil as can be, Marth still managed to love and earn another's love in the end. It almost made him human…seeing Dark Pit's grief, Roy's heart almost tore in two at the thought that he had taken the life of a person the Faire loved deeply, for the sake of others. Was it selfish of him to do so? It was difficult to judge. Whatever the moral ground, the deed had been done. He blinked away the tears as he realized that his old friend, a friend that's been with him since they were kids, a friend that finally showed his true old self to Dark Pit, was dead.

The traitor turned to leave the former prisoner to his mourning. His metal boots clicked loudly in the halls as he made his way towards the balcony. Once he reached it, he gazed outward to the soldiers below. At the sight of the traitor, the fighting slowed to a stop, as if by an unspoken agreement. One couldn't explain why. The air surrounding the redhead had something that instantly silenced everyone and implored them to listen. A note of finality surrounded them. The enemy army knew that something must have had happened to their king if the redhead was standing there. Everyone looked up expectedly as he leaned forward to rest his hands on the stone rails. Roy waited for the murmurs to die down before announcing:

"My comrades…the devil King Marth…is dead!"

A stunned silence. Then the Faire army erupted into a loud roar. Soldiers patted each other on the back, some even hugging in sheer happiness. Surprisingly, many of King Marth's soldiers joined in the celebration. They dropped their arms in a sign of surrender and peace, the opposing army accepting them gratefully. Some, more ruthless and seeing a chance to attack, were subdued immediately, but it was mostly a joyous event. Roy smiled at his hard-working army. They didn't need to know the thoughts running in the redhead's mind. They should continue to live without worrying about the devil king ever again.

Only Sir Ike saw the slight sadness in Roy's smile. He stared in stunned silence. His legs failing him, he fell to his knees. Although he couldn't believe, he felt as if some part of him left, signaling the king's death. Although an empty void filled him, Sir Ike felt as if invisible chains unlocked themselves and freed him from King Marth's influence. The sudden image of Marth, the old Marth, his friend, smiling at him was the final count. Their eyes met, and Sir Ike nodded his understanding. He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. Suddenly, a hand extended to him. Sir Ike looked up to see Pit. A small smile graced the Faire's face. Although Pit didn't say anything, Sir Ike understood completely. Pit knew from Roy. He understood the conflicting feelings the warlord had. Although he slightly scorned Sir Ike for not joining them, he respected him for the deep loyalty he showed time and time again. The warlord returned a sorrowful, yet relieved smile. He took the hand, and Pit pulled him back to his feet. All around them, the soldiers chanted mockingly in victory:

"King Marth is dead! Long live the king! Long live the king! King Marth is dead! Long live the king! Long live the king!"


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue

How long has it been since the triumphant death of the devil King Marth? Roy, once advisor and warlord to Marth, now reigned as the Humans' new king. He ruled justly and kindly, ensuring that his people grew and prosper. A few days after the final battle, he immediately negotiated with Lady Palutena of the Faires to set a treaty and worked to settle grudges with the Meta Knight of the AlBaests. King Roy then liberated and pardoned all of King Marth's prisoners. For those who continued to fight for the devil king, he gave them one chance to repent. Those who took that chance now served King Roy. Sir Ike accepted King Roy's proposal after his old friend persisted in reappointing the loyal warlord, so long as King Roy properly buried Marth's body. The king was ahead of the warlord and actually held a private funeral attended only by him, Sir Ike, Dark Pit, and Doctor Mario. He couldn't stand the disgraceful funeral of being tossed to the dogs for his old friend, no matter how evil he was. Marth's more "loyal" soldiers went into exile. King Roy knew that he would also be in danger of usurpation from the exiled ones. However he knew that there was little he could do about it. Instead, he looked towards the future. All three countries enjoyed the serenity that came after the storm. Many Humans thanked the gods for ridding them of the devil king. Most Faires and AlBaests felt the same way.

After several long years, Dark Pit finally reunited with his family. When Pit saw Roy leading his twin from the castle, tears welled up in his eyes. He pounced on Dark Pit, sobbing his apology repeatedly. To Pit's surprise, the Faire brushed it off and said he didn't mind. It puzzled Pit, but he saw how distracted Dark Pit was and left him alone on that. The soldiers nearby had cheered for the reunion of the two brothers. They celebrated their long-awaited victory in King Marth's throne room, sagas and ale being tossed around joyfully. After three days of celebration, Lady Palutena's soldiers returned to their land, with Dark Pit. The black-winged Faire took one last look at the castle before turning back.

"Dark Pit, what's wrong?" Pit had asked as they rode silently through the woods.

"…Nothing…" he replied. Pit looked at him curiously but said no more. He wondered whether that choking he heard in Dark Pit's tone was his imagination. When they arrived, their countrymen excitedly welcomed them back with open arms. Another celebration was held, followed by much story-telling and ale-drinking. Lady Palutena congratulated her army for their bravery and skill in battle. Then, when Pit led his twin to the queen, the whole room hushed. Lady Palutena smiled at the black-winged Faire. Dark Pit was in the process of dropping into a bow when the majestic Faire hugged him, stopping him from doing so.

"Welcome home, Dark Pit," she whispered in his ear. His initial surprise faded away as he hugged her back.

"I'm home…"

The celebration lasted for more than three days. However, many Faires missed seeing the long-lost angel Faire as he often stayed in his room. Pit attempted to call him out but to no avail. He wondered whether Dark Pit's capture had scarred his twin brother more than he let on. Life soon returned to normal. Without King Marth's shadow looming over them, the Faires noticeably greeted the days with more happiness. Lady Palutena had appointed Dark Pit to Captain of her Guard with his brother and Dark Pit found himself melting into the strange, yet familiar Faire lifestyle that dominated his childhood. He adapted quickly and his days in King Marth's castle almost seemed like a lie.

Almost. No matter how many times he tried, Dark Pit couldn't forget Marth. When idle, he would find himself thinking about Marth's caress and embraces. He still desired the king's warm touch and loving kisses, gestures forever lost to him. He would often go off by himself, sitting near a water fountain or staring at the trees. At night, he could be heard mumbling the same inaudible statement as his lips moved the same way. Dark Pit sometimes woke up screaming from a nightmare. When Pit tried to comfort him, Dark Pit would wave him away, hugging himself tightly. His strange behavior did not go unnoticed by his brother. Pit knew something was up with his twin. His brother never acted this way before. He had asked Lady Palutena for the reason behind Dark Pit's distractions. The queenly Faire advised him to ask his twin himself. But Pit felt awkward about it, so he left it at that. He soon discovered a partial answer when he and Dark Pit were changing out of their training gear.

Dark Pit often went into another room to change, another part of his behavior that bothered Pit. However that day he was simply too exhausted. When he pulled his shirt off, Pit saw it. The white-winged Faire grabbed Dark Pit by the shoulders, earning a wince of pain. Dark Pit was about to protest his brother's rough handling when Pit asked in a shaky voice:

"What is that?"

Dark Pit looked to where Pit stared. He felt his face heating when he saw the dreaded emblem of the devil king. Dark Pit shoved his twin away and covered his chest. Pit stumbled backwards before regaining his balance. His eyes narrowed, he asked again, "What is that?"

"It's nothing," Dark Pit muttered.

"It's not 'nothing', Dark Pit! He branded you! That fucktard branded you!" Pit yelled. He grabbed Dark Pit's wrist, pulling him to the exit. "Come on! We're getting that thing off you!" At that moment, he felt Dark Pit's wrist wrestled from his grasp. Pit turned around in surprise to see his twin's stubborn stance. Dark Pit shuffled his feet awkwardly, avoiding Pit's eyes.

"I…don't want to…" he murmured. Confusion flashed in his brother's eyes.

"But…but why not?" Pit asked. He spread his hands out, palms up in an imploring gesture. "That…mark means you belong to him. You don't, Dark Pit. So why don't you want it off?"

Dark Pit let the silence stretch between them as he searched for an answer. He had no intention of telling Pit the truth after everything they been through. He didn't want to let Pit know his true feelings for the devil king. He felt like Pit would scorn him for it, and reject him. After what happened, he simply wouldn't be able to take that burden as well. Dark Pit finally settled for an answer, "You wouldn't understand." He turned away from Pit and slipped on his shirt. Before Pit could say anything else, Dark Pit rushed out of the room. The Faire stood silently in the room, thinking about his brother's bizarre actions. It didn't make any sense to him, but it might make sense to someone wiser than him.

After changing, Pit hurried to Lady Palutena's office. She listened intently to Pit's story, eyes widening slightly when he told her about Dark Pit's brand.

"He refused to have it removed?" she asked curiously. Pit nodded.

"Yeah. I don't understand. Why would he want to keep the mark of the Human who tortured him? I don't get it!"

Lady Palutena leaned back in her chair, her mind racing. When Dark Pit finally came home, she immediately sensed that something was wrong with him. There was an air of shame and regret. It wasn't a particularly negative feeling as relief was mixed in, but it was enough to worry her all the same. She cared for the black-winged Faire and didn't like to see him, or any of her people, hurt. The queenly Faire had suspected that she missed a certain piece to the puzzle, something that Dark Pit wouldn't reveal. Thinking back to his strange behavior, it finally clicked. Lady Palutena's look of surprise scared Pit.

"Lady Palutena?"

She blinked her eyes quickly. She looked at the Captain of her Guard before smiling empathetically. She gave him a quick hug. "Oh, Pit. I'm sure Dark Pit will be all right."

"What?" Pit tilted his head at his lady's sorrowful joy. "But-."

"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it."

"Okay…" Pit shuffled his feet. He knew that if his lady said she would take care of it, she would take care of it. However he still didn't have his initial question answered, and it was one he was determined to get a solution to. "But why is Dark Pit acting this way?"

"Don't worry about it. Dark Pit's…just mending a broken heart."

After that incident, Lady Palutena would often sent Dark Pit on trading expeditions in the Humans' land. It was noted that she specifically sent him close to the castle but never on orders to enter, fearing it might be too emotional for him. He would complained about her asking him and not Pit. However he was secretly grateful to Lady Palutena for giving him the errands as it allowed him to return to catch a glimpse of the castle. Even when she didn't require it, he would sneak off to the Humans' land. He would stand hours on end at times, just staring at the ore towers until the sun set and many shops closed for the day. Dark Pit unknowingly shared the same fears as the queenly Faire. He felt his heart might break all over again should he step inside the castle. His face became common among the shopkeepers. Even after merchants died and their children inherited the business, they continued to welcome Dark Pit as he visited to the point of being every business families' brother or uncle. His cycle lasted for many years, spanning numerous generations.

"Hey, Dark Pit! What can I offer for you today?" Red the Pokémon AlBaest Trainer waved at the Faire. Dark Pit looked over to the shopkeeper. He returned the wave as he walked over. Red smiled at his frequent customer. Although the Faire could be snarky and rude at times, the shopkeeper knew that he was good at heart. "Need any more tea?"

Dark Pit held his basket of fruits tightly in front of him. The market seemed a bit more busy today than other days. He didn't want to risk a thief. He shook his head, "Just some vegetables. Palutena's limiting my tea consumption."

Red laughed as he swept his hand, encouraging the Faire to examine his open stall. "That's too bad. You must really like tea to always buy at least ten bags each time. Lady Palutena sure took a while banning you from tea."

Dark Pit groaned, "Ugh, you don't even know half of it." He exchanged a few more words with the shopkeeper before leaving the stall for a new place. As he moved forward, rapid footsteps sped towards the Faire. An iron grip grasped his arm, pulling him towards the stranger. The Faire grunted in surprise. His hand slipped from the basket, leading his fruits to tumble and roll on the ground. "Fuck! Watch i-!" Dark Pit stopped as the stranger's blue eyes ensnared him. They belonged to a breathless beauty with long, silky hair. Lips parted slightly to allow the stranger to breathe. They inhaled deeply, the crimson in their cheeks a testimony of their run.

"Have…we met before?" the bluenette asked. Dark Pit could only stare. Despite what he kept telling himself, he couldn't stop his heart from beating a little faster and his tears from gathering at the corner of his eyes. _No…_ _This isn't Marth. This can't be Marth. Marth is dead. He died right in my arms…_

"No…" Dark Pit finally breathed. "We've never met."

The bluenette's face fell. "Oh…pardon me. I didn't mean to be rude. It's just that…" she released her grip. "You seem so familiar…"

Dark Pit shook his head as he leaned down to pick up his basket. He hid a scowl at the realization that he had to buy more fruits to replace his old ones. "You're imagining things…" he straightened up. He saw embarrassment flushing on the woman's face. Despite himself, Dark Pit couldn't help but wonder who this woman was. Why did she bear so much resemblance to Marth? Then could it be that-? But wouldn't that be impossible? But then that was the only explanation-.

"Princess Lucina!" a voice cried from the crowd. Both Dark Pit and Lucina looked towards the voice. An albino dressed in a black-and-purple robe slowed to a stop, his breath ragged. He rested against his knees to catch his breath. "Princess…please…don't run off like that…next time."

"Oh! I'm really sorry, Robin! I didn't mean to! It's almost like my body reacted on its own…"

Robin shook his head in mock admonition, "That's a new excuse I haven't heard of…" His voice trailed off as his eyes glanced at Dark Pit. The Faire thought he saw a flash of recognition in Robin's eyes. It disappeared too fast for him to be certain. The man tilted his head to side, looking the Faire up and down. "Oh? Is he your friend, Princess?" Lucina also looked at Dark Pit. Her brow furrowed in thought. She had a feeling that she had, indeed, met this black-winged Faire before. She just couldn't place her finger on it. Lucina prided herself in her memory, and having this familiar stranger before her infuriated her to no end.

"I'm…not really sure…" she answered quietly. Dark Pit also kept quiet. He switched his attention from Robin back to Lucina. He wasn't sure what kind of tricks Fate was playing, but he knew he hated how it toyed with them endlessly. The princess resembled Marth too much, and it pained Dark Pit to look at her. He couldn't glance at Lucina without having painful memories resurfacing and shattering his heart in millions of pieces. It was as if his lover resurrected without his memories. Dark Pit didn't know which situation was worse, to lose Marth forever, or have Marth here without his memories. The current condition almost reflected the latter.

Dark Pit finally shook his head, "We have never met before. Please excuse me, Your Highness…" he began to turn away.

"Wait! Please!" suddenly he felt the familiar iron grip around his wrist. He looked back in surprise. Lucina's eyes reflected the same panicked look as Marth's, an expression Dark Pit could never erase from his mind. The two, focused on each other, missed the small smile that crossed the albino's face before disappearing. "P-please…don't go…I can't help but feel that I can't live without you…"

Dark Pit fought the heat rising in his cheeks. Although the words were different, the feelings were still the same. He looked away, preventing the two Humans from seeing his embarrassment, "That doesn't make any sense. We've never met before."

"We have," said Lucina's determined voice. "I know we have."

"Then what's my name?" Dark Pit demanded. At the question, Lucina flinched as if she had been struck. She looked around, as if the bustling market would conjure the answer for her. She felt her heart sink when nothing came to mind. She had no idea that Dark Pit felt the same way. "That's what I thought…" he muttered

"…Dark Pit…"

The Faire's heart skipped a beat. "W-what?" he whispered. It was almost as if time had stopped for them. The crowd walked and continued their businesses around them, unaware of the revelation that just occurred.

"It's Dark Pit, isn't it?" Lucina's eyes sparkled when the name suddenly came to her. She wasn't sure how, but it resurfaced as if she opened a box of old memories. She smiled brightly, but her smile faded when she saw the conflicting emotions on the Faire's face. "Are you all right?" she touched his arm. Lucina started in shock when she saw tears dripping down the Faire's cheeks. She moved forward, the urge to comfort him overwhelming her. "Are you all right?!"

Dark Pit covered his mouth as he shook his head, not as an answer to her question, more as a denial to himself. His vision blurred with multitude of tears. He couldn't believe it. He wasn't sure if it was even possible that part of Marth resided in Lucina. He almost didn't want to ask, but he had to know. To finally put his aching heart to rest after all these years of suffering from the loss of his love.

"Y-you…y-you're Marth's ch-child?" he hiccupped. The surprise was evident on Lucina's face. She faltered, wondering exactly who the Faire before her was if he used her ancestor's name in such a familiar manner.

"I am," she finally answered, feeling slightly ashamed to reveal the stranger her lineage. She knew how her ancestor cruelly ruled his kingdom, forcing his friends to finally usurp him. It was only years later when one of Roy's descendant consented to allow another ancestor of Lucina to retake the crown under the condition that he did not repeat Marth's mistake. Roy's descendant returned to their former position of advisor to the throne. "Did…you know my ancestor, the devil king Marth?" Lucina guessed that he must have been one of her ancestor's victims. Yet, she couldn't explain her irresistible desire to hold the Faire. She wasn't sure why she would feel that way with somebody who she somehow, miraculously, knew his name. Nevertheless, the yearning almost overpowered her and it took all her discipline to stop herself.

More tears spilled from his eyes as Dark Pit nodded his head. Lucina felt her heart skip a beat. She had read many stories and legends about King Marth. Though many seemed exaggerated, they all agreed that he was a forbidding ruler. Despite what the books told, Lucina felt that in her heart, King Marth had a different side to him that he didn't show anybody.

"I-." Dark Pit hiccupped. "I…I…" the sobs racked his whole body, stopping him from completing his sentence. He covered his face, attempting in vain to stop the tears from cascading down his cheeks. He didn't see Lucina move forward again. However, he felt a familiar warmth wrap around him. He barely composed himself enough to realize that the princess was hugging him. She patted his head in an effort to calm him down. Lucina sensed that something about her made the Faire snap. Instinctively, she knew it had to be about her relation to Marth. For the life of her, she couldn't think the reason why it would make such a seemingly strong-willed Faire break down like this. Regardless, she was willing to do whatever she could to help this familiar stranger.

"Shh…it's all right, Dark Pit. It's all right…" she whispered. Her reassurances only cause the Faire to bawl even harder. He buried his face in her chest, sobbing his broken heart. Her touch, her voice, her warmth, it all reminded Dark Pit of Marth. He felt a small pang of gratitude for the chance to feel the sensations he had only been able to feel with Marth. To feel them again was truly a miracle for the Faire. However a large, regretful sorrow overwhelmed him. A sorrow that refused to leave him after all these years. Dark Pit tried to speak again.

"I-I-I…"

"Calm down…it's all right…" Lucina hugged the Faire tighter. She sensed his arms wrap around her. Although she felt a small start of surprise at how familiar it felt, the princess continued to embrace the Faire.

Dark Pit continued to sob in her chest. Try as he might, he simply could not get the words he wanted to say after all these years out. He regretted how he never said them to Marth when he was alive. And he deeply rued how he could not say them when Marth died in his arms. Even now…Dark Pit could not find the strength to say those three words to let her know his true feelings. Those three words that Marth had no problem saying. The Faire wanted more than anything to let Marth know the truth.

Dark Pit sobbed silently to Lucina. _I love you._

And he felt something wet in his hair.

* * *

 **And that, my dear readers, is the end of my entry to LegitElizabethWWEFan's M-Rated Contest! Man! Was it a wild ride! I had to rush some things since I would be leaving on vacation soon and won't be able to work on it during said time. Said time contained the deadline of this contest. Said time is family time. Said family time means spending time with family. So I was pretty much stuck. *shrugs***

 **I swear though...this story really had me groaning and suffering.** **In all honesty, I lost sight of how I wanted to conclude this story as I griped and groaned about the other parts.** **Especially Chapter 8. Oh, I enjoyed the bloodshed. Immensely. I really wished I could do more. You have no idea how much fun I had with that. It was the...other...part...that I enjoyed less of. I actually jumped around to avoid writing that part, which was a bad idea considering my time restraint and the fact that I could barely continue the story without the completion of the latest chapter due to the fact that I might actually write something in the new chapter and then have to revise it because of something from the previous chapter. I really struggled with the end. I wanted Dark Pit to meet Lucina...but then what happens afterwards? I have a bad tendency to leave things open so it seems as if a sequel was coming...I didn't want to do it with this. I guess I have to be contented with this conclusion. Please don't kill me for it! I know it sucks compared to the other chapters! I'm sorry!**

 **For the case of who Marth's wife was and where she was during this whole fiasco, I honestly don't know. Will you guys accept the explanation that Marth drove her away to a better place? I doubt it...but anyways! Truthfully, I initially chose the pairing of MarthxDarkPit since Marth is Lucina's ancestor and I had to include that pairing somehow. But now I can't help but feel I support the main pairing of this story more than the side pairing...Oh well!**

 **Characters I used (just in case you couldn't get them) in order (hopefully): Marth, Link, Ike, Bowser, Dark Pit, Roy, Ganondorf, Wolf, Mewtwo, Female Wii Fit Trainer, King Dedede, Wario, Captain Falcon, Peach, Doctor Mario, Pit, Lady Palutena, Diddy Kong, Zelda, Sheik, Falco, Meta Knight, Samus, Charizard, Mega Man, Male Wii Fit Trainer, Lucina, Robin**

 **Anyways, hope you guys all enjoyed. I'm really kind of sad to say that this is the end of a story that I enjoyed/suffered writing. For my competitors reading this, again, good luck in the contest! May the best writer win!**


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